YANKEE     NOTIONS 


P.  94, 


"/jr//<>;;/  fiurdock  was  a  bitter  matt. " 


YANKEE    NOTIONS. 

A   MEDLEY. 


BY  TIMO.  TITTERWELL,  ESQ. 


Just  a  bit  of  cold  beef,  a  slice  of  bread  and  ale.     Walk  in 
gentlemen.— Old  Flay. 


SECOND    EDITION. 


ILLUSTRATIONS   BY   D.  C.  JOHNSTON, 


BOSTON: 

OTIS,    BROADERS   AND    COMPANY 

1838. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congre?s'in  the  year  1837, 

By  Otis,  Broaders  &  Co. 

fn  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  Massachusetts. 


Prest  of  Tuttle,  Dennett  &  Chisholm  —  17  School  Street. 


PREFACE 


Prefaces,  gentle  reader,  are  com- 
monly tiresome  things  :  the  less  therefore 
I  say  in  this  part,  the  better.  But,  a 
preface  there  must  be  to  my  book,  as  the 
neglect  of  such  an  introductory  salutation 
would  be  like  not  making  a  bow  on  going 
into  company  :  and  as  Don  Quixote  re- 
marks, "  there  is  nothing  cheaper  than 
civility." 

I  have  written  this  book  for  many  rea- 
sons, every  one  of  which  you  may  be 
sure  of,  in  five  minutes  guessing.  As  to 
the  character  of  it,  I  may  as  well  inform 
the  reader  in  the  very  outset,  that  it  is 
not  designed  to  be  popular,  or  consonant 
to  the  reigning  taste  of  our  reading  and 

947319 


VI  PREFACE. 


writing  community.  Most  of  the  books 
now  written  among  us,  exhort  people  to 
wear  long  faces,  save  their  money,  cramp 
their  souls,  starve  their  bodies,  besot 
their  intellects,  and  be  most  dismally  wise 
in  all  sorts  of  cool,  calculating  ways. 
Now  the  reader  will  find  nothing  of  this 
sort  in  the  following  work  ;  therefore  his 
best  way  will  be  to  throw  it  aside  at  once, 
in  case  he  expects  me  to  follow  in  the 
track  of  our  great  American  authors.  1 
frankly  confess  that  I  lack  both  the  am- 
bition and  the  ability  to  imitate  the  pro- 
found philosophy  of  "Moral  Hydrosta- 
tics," the  sentimental  beauties  of  "  Kitty 
Spriggins,"  and  the  moral  sublimity  of 
"  My  Mother's  Pewter  Porringer." 

No,  gentle  reader,  I  hold  with  old  King 
Solomon,  that  if  there  be  a  time  to  weep, 
there  is  also  a  time  to  laugh ;  and  in  my 
opinion  this  is  the  very  time.     I  shall  do 


PREFACE.  VII 

my  best  to  make  you  merry ;  laugh  there- 
fore while  you  may.  The  worst  thing  for 
a  man's  health  is  melancholy,  but  a  good 
joke  helps  digestion  and  promotes  longevi- 
ty. A  good  joke,  like  a  good  sherris  sack, 
hath  a  twofold  operation.  It  ascends  me 
into  the  brain ;  dries  me  there  all  the 
foolish  and  dull  and  crudy  vapors  which 
environ  it ;  makes  it  apprehensive,  quick, 
forgetive,  full  of  nimble,  fiery,  delectable 
shapes,  which  acting  slily  and  sympa- 
thetically upon  the  corners  of  the  mouth, 
produce  hearty,  jovial,  honest  laughter. 
The  other  property  of  your  excellent 
joke  is,  the  warming  of  the  blood,  which 
before,  cold  and  settled,  left  the  face 
long,  the  heart  lumpish,  the  looks  dump- 
ish, and  the  whole  inward  and  outward 
man  most  dismally  frumpish  ; — all  which 
are  the  badge  of  pusillanimity,  cynical 
sourness,  and  pseudo-sapient  self-conceit, 


Vlll  PREFACE. 

But  the  joke  warms  it,  and  makes  it  course 
from  the  inwards  to  the  parts  extreme, 
mollify  the  heart,  tickle  the  ribs,  expand 
the  pericardium,  inspirit  the  lungs,  light 
up  the  bosom,  clear  the  oesophagus,  lu- 
bricate the  tongue,  inspire  the  brain, 
sublimate  the  cerebellum,  titillate  the 
skull-bone,  vivify  the  spinal  marrow  and 
quicken  the  whole  nervous  system  :  so 
that  man  being  jolly,  becometh  perforce, 
generous,  forgiving,  liberal,  communica- 
tive, frank,  inquisitive,  sympathetic,  hu- 
mane and  pious  :  and  doeth  noble  deeds 
without  end.  And  thus  goodness,  mer- 
cy, munificence,  public  spirit,  patriotism, 
and  the  whole  host  of  social  virtues  and 
christian  charities  come  of  joking.  If  I 
had  a  thousand  sons,  the  first  human 
principle  I  would  teach  them,  should  be 
to  forswear  doleful  dumps  and  addict 
themselves  to  fun. 


preface:.  ix 

But  I  grieve  to  say,  gentle  reader, 
people  are  not  half  so  merry  as  they 
used  to  be.  Alas  !  how  much  occasion 
have  we  to  exclaim  with  Panurge, 
"  Toutes  les  bonnes  coutumes  se  per dent :  le 
monde  ne  fait  plus  que  rever  !  "  In  times 
when  our  old  grandmothers  wore  gold 
beads,  hoop  petticoats,  and  high-heeled 
shoes,  folks  were  vastly  more  jovial  than 
at  present.  They  did  not  look  upon  it  as 
vulgar  to  go  to  a  frolic,  immoral  to  laugh, 
or  suicidal  to  eat  and  drink  what  was 
comfortable  ;  —  honest  souls,  they  knew 
nothing  of  the  march  of  intellect,  and 
had  no  transcendental  wiseacres  to  give 
them  lectures  against  common  sense,  and 
teach  them  to  be  metaphysically  misera- 
ble, or  starve  them  by  scientific  rules,  or 
stiffen  their  morality  with  any  "  three 
experiments  of  starching/' 

I  would  give  many  a  sugar-cane 
To  see  three-corner'd  hats  again. 


X  PREFACE* 

Now  this  decline   of  merriment  has 
been  the  cause  of  nine  tenths  of  all  the 
evils  we  suffer  at  the  present  day.     What 
makes  people  dyspeptical,  hypochondria- 
cal, apoplectic,  envious,  rabid,  fanatical, 
factious,  quarrelsome,  selfish,  consump- 
tive and  short-lived  ?     The  doctors  say 
this  and  that,   but  they  know    nothing 
about  it.     Politicians  and  metaphysicians 
reason  and  speculate,  but  they   cannot 
find  out.     The  true  cause  is  that  afore- 
mentioned chilliness  of  the  blood,  occa- 
sioned by  the  want  of  good  merriment. 
Nothing  else,  depend  upon  it :  for  since 
good  jollity  has  declined,  nothing  has  gone 
on  rightly  among  us.     How  came  the 
heroes  of  seventysix  to  fight  so  valiant- 
ly to  the  tune  of  Yankee  Doodle  ?  — 
Why,  simply  because  Yankee  Doodle  is  a 
jolly,  jigging,  mirth-exciting  tune. 

Quien  canta,  sus  males  espanta. 


PREFACE.  XI 


Gentle  reader,  take  my  word  for  it, — 
food  is  necessary  to  life,  whatever  march- 
of-intellect  folks  and  quack  doctors  may 
say  to  the  contrary.     Mirth  is  necessary 
to    happiness,   whatever  your    vinegar- 
faced,  puritanical  wiseacres  may  preach 
about  the  moral  beauty  of  melancholy, 
and  the  delights  of  being  dismal.     I  do 
seriously  advise  you,  reader,  not  to  starve 
yourself,  not  to  hang  yourself,  —  my  life 
for   yours  ;  —  and   not    to   believe    that 
starvation  and  suicide  are  the  great  pur- 
poses of  human  life,  although  these  prin- 
ciples are  so  strongly  inculcated  by  the 
moral  reformers  and  march-of-mind  fana- 
tics, who  are  attempting  to   grind  the 
world  over  anew  with  the  gimcrack  ma- 
chinery of  their  crazy  systems.     No  sys- 
tem is  worth  a  cherry-stone  but  this  — 

Laugh  when  you  can  :  —  be  sober  when  you  must, 
For  doleful  dumps  soon  turn  a  man  to  dust. 

If  any  man  finds  fault  with  it,"and  longs, 


XII  PREFACE. 

like  Master  Simon,  for  a  three-legged 
stool  to  be  melancholy  upon  ;  —  much 
good  may  it  do  him.  The  worst  I  wish 
him  for  his  perversity,  is  that  he  may 
join  a  temperance  society,  and  be  soused 
in  cold  water  till  he  is  seven  times  cod- 
dled. 

Gentle  reader,  I  have  tried  my  best  to 
be  original  in  the  following  pages,  by 
which  you  will  probably  understand  that 
I  have  not  stolen  above  half  of  the  ma- 
terials. "  Convey,  the  wise  it  call." 
Original,  did  I  say  ?  —  How  could  I  hope 
for  success,  knowing  that  five  hundred 
thousand  persons  have  written  stories 
before  me,  and  used  up  everything  ? 
Nevertheless,  should  any  wiseacre  pre- 
tend to  discover  that  my  book  is  an 
imitation  of  Robinson  Crusoe,  Tristram 
Shandy,  Clarissa  Harlowe,  Goody  Two 
Shoes,  or  the  Pilgrim's  Progress,  I  must 


PREFACE.  Xlll 

needs  tell  him,  he  is  under  a  very  great 
mistake. 

Perhaps  too,  you  expect  me  to  apolo- 
gize for  this  publication,  and  to  declare, 
by  way  of  deprecating  criticism,  that  I 
think  very  meanly  of  the  work.  I  shall 
do  no  such  thing.  First,  because  you 
would  not  believe  me.  Secondly,  be- 
cause I  do  not  believe  so  myself.  Truly, 
if  I  had  not  some  good  opinion  of  the 
book,  I  should  not  send  it  to  the  press, 
and  hazard  the  publisher's  cash  and  my 
own  comfort. 

To  speak  the  plain  truth,  which  a  pre- 
face rarely  does,  I  shall  be  quite  as  much 
astonished  as  grieved,  to  learn  a  twelve- 
month hence,  that  the  greater  part  of 
this  edition  has  been  used  to  singe  tur- 
keys or  burn  a  sooty  chimney.  Yet  any 
critic  is  at  liberty  to  find  fault  with  the 

book  ;  and  when  he  tells  me  that  he 

2 


XlV  PREFACE. 

finds  the  work  full  of  blemishes,  the  in- 
vention feeble,  the  style  poor,  and  the 
sentiments  trivial,  I  have  an  answer  ready 
by  telling  him  that  I  knew  all  this  be- 
fore ;  and  like  Steele  in  the  Tatler,  let 
me  say,  "  if  anything  in  this  work  is 
found  to  be  particularly  dull,  the  reader 
is  informed  there  is  a  design  in  it."  I 
have  endeavored  to  serve  up  a  variety  of 
dishes,  to  please  a  variety  of  tastes.  Still 
if  any  there  be,  who  choose  to  travel 
from  Dan  to  Beersheba,  and  call  it  all 
barren,  I  must  e'en  take  my  leave  of 
them  as  the  Archbishop  did  of  the  un- 
lucky Gil  Bias,  wishing  them  all  manner 
of  happiness  and  a  better  taste. 
I  am, 

Gentle  reader, 

Yours  truly, 
TIMO.  TITTERWELL. 

Merry-Go-Nimble  Court — No.  2,  round  the  corner,  ) 
Next  door  to  the  fat  man's.  $ 


CONTENTS 


Sonnet  to  Mirth,            -            -            -            -  17 

My  First  and  Last  Speech  in  the  General  Court,  18 

Biography  of  a  Broomstick,     -            -  S4 

Ode  to  the  South  Pole,        -  66 

The  Age  of  Wonders,               ...  69 

Our  Singing  School,             ...  76 

Benoni  Burdock,            -            -            -  94 

Death  and  Doctor  Sawdust,         -                -  101 

Thoughts  on  Seeing  Ghosts,     -            -  111 

Josh  Beanpole's  Courtship,             -            -  119 

Metaphysics,      -            -            -            -             -  136 

Rime  of  the  Ancient  Pedler,  -  -  146 
Voyage  of  Discovery  through  the   Streets  of 

Boston,        -                        -            -            -  153 

The  Science  of  Starvation,          -            -  165 

Decline  and  Fall  of  the  City  of  Dogtown,  -  173 
Proceedings  of  the  Society  for  the    Diffusion 

of  Useless  Knowledge,    -            -  18S 


XVI  CONTENTS. 

Boston  Lyrics,         -  196 

Bob  Lee.     A  Tale,      -            -  -            -      198 

Horace  in  Boston,  Epodon  Od.  ii.  -            220 

The  Dead  Set,               -            -  -            -      223 

Horace  in  Boston,  Lib.  ii.  Od.  xvi.  -            236 

The  Two  Moschetoes,              -  -                   239 

V  Envoi,      -----  252 


SONNET  TO  MIRTH, 


Come,  gentle  spirit  of  ethereal  kind, 
Nymph  of  the  radiant  brow,  whose  rosy  smile 
With  soft  enchantment  sweetly  could  beguile 

To  frolic  fancy,  Shakspe are's  glorious  mind. 

Goddess,  whose  witching  spell  has  intertwin'd 
Dull  mortal  clay  with  fire  from  heavenly  skies  ; 
Thou  cherub  sprite,  whose  sweet  and  sunny  eyes 

Brighten'd  the  dungeon  where  Cervantes  pined. 
Grant  me  a  draught  from  thy  life-kindling  bowl ; 

Around  my  pen  flit  hovering,  and  inspire 

With  strains  of  sparkling  joy  my  genial  soul, 

And  fill  my  brain  with  fun-provoking  fire  ; 
Come,  and  my  glowing  heart  shall  wanton  free, 
And  flow  a  fountain  of  perennial  glee. 


MY  FIRST  AND  LAST  SPEECH   IN   THE 
GENERAL  COURT. 

BY      TOBIAS      TURN1PTOF, 
EX-REPRESENTATIVE    FROM   THE    TOWN   OF   SQ.UASHBOROUGH. 

If  I  live  a  thousand  years,  I  shall  never 
forget  the  day  I  was  chosen  representative. 
Isaac  Longlegs  ran  himself  out  of  a  year's 
growth  to  bring  me  the  news,  for  I  staid  away 
from  town  meeting  out  of  dignity,  as  the  way 
is,  being  a  candidate.  At  first  I  could  n't  be- 
lieve it,  though  when  I  spied  Isaac  coming 
round  Slouch's  •  corner  with  his  coat-tails 
flapping  in  the  wind,  and  pulling  straight  a- 
head  for  our  house,  I  felt  certain  that  some- 
thing was  the  matter,  and  my  heart  began  to 
bump,  bump  so,  under  my  jacket,  that  't  was 
a  wonder  it  did  n't  knock  a  button  off.  How- 
ever, I  put  on  a  bold  face,  and  when  Isaac 
came  bolting  into  the  house,  I  pretended  not 
to  be  thinking  about  it. 

"  Lieutenant  Turniptop  !  "  says  Isaac, 
"  huh,  huh  !    You  've  got  the  election  !  " 


MY   FIRST  AND  LAST  SPEECH,   ETC.  19 


44 


Got  what  ?  "  says  I,  pretending  to  be  sur- 
prised, in  a  coolish  sort  of  a  way. 

"  Got  the  election  !  "  says  he,  "  all  hollow  ; 
you've  got  a  majority  of  thirteen  —  a  clear 
majority  —  clean,  smack-smooth,  and  no  two 
words  about  it  !  " 

"  Pooh  !  "  says  I,  trying  to  keep  cool, 
though  at  the  same  time  I  felt  all  over  —  I 
can't  tell  how,  only  my  skin  did  n't  seem  to 
fit  me.  "  Pooh  !  "  says  I  again  ;  but  the  idea 
of  going  into  public  life,  and  being  called 
"  Squire  Turniptop,"  was  almost  too  much  for 
me.  I  seemed  to  feel  as  if  I  was  standing  on 
the  tip-top  of  the  north  pole,  with  my  head 
above  the  clouds,  the  sun  on  one  side  and  the 
moon  on  the  other.  "  Got  the  election  ?  "  says 
I  ;  u  ahem  !  hem  !  hem  !  "  And  so  I  tried  to 
put  on  a  proper  dignity  for  the  occasion,  but  it 
was  hard  work.  "Got  a  majority  ?"  says  I 
once  more. 

"  As  sure  as  a  gun,"  says  Isaac,  "  I  heard  it 
with  my  own  ears.  Squire  Dobbs  read  it  off  to 
the  whole  meeting  — c  Tobias  Turniptop  has  fif- 
tynine,  and  —  is  —  chosen  !  '  " 

I  thought  I  should  have  choked  !  six  mil- 
lions of  glorious  ideas  seemed  to  be  swelling 
up  all  at  a  time  within  me.  I  had  just  been 
reading  Doctor  Growler's  sermon  on  the   end 


20  MY  FIRST  AND  LAST   SPEECH 

of  the  world,  but  now  I  thought  the  world  was 
just  beginning. 

"  You  're  representative  to  the  Gineral  Court  !" 
said  Isaac,  striking  his  forefinger  into  the  palm 
of  his  left  hand,  with  as  much  emphasis  as  if  a 
new  world  had  been  created.  I  felt  more  mag- 
nanimous than  ever. 

"  I   shan't   accept,"    said   I.       (The    Lord 
pardon  me  for  lying.) 

"  Shan't  accept  !  "  screamed  out  Isaac,  in 
the  greatest  amazement,  with  his  great  goggle 
eyes  starting  out  of  his  head.  "  Shall  I  go 
back  and  tell  them  so  ?-" 

"  I  mean  I  '11  take  it  into  consideration," 
said  I,  trying  to  look  as  important  as  I  could. 
"  It 's  an  office  of  great  responsibility,  Isaac," 
said  I,  "  but  I  '11  think  of  it,  and  after  due 
deliberation  —  if  my    constituents   insist    upon 

my   going, Isaac,    what  '11    you    take    to 

drink  ? " 

I  could  not  shut  my  eyes  to  sleep  all  that 
night,  and  did  nothing  but  think  of  the  General 
Court,  and  how  I  should  look  in  the  great 
hall  of  the  statehouse,  marching  up  to  my 
seat,  to  take  possession.  I  determined  right 
off,  to  have  a  bran  new  blue  coat  with  brass 
buttons  ;  but  on  second  thought  I  remembered 
hearing  Colonel  Crabapple  say  that  the  mem- 


IN  THE   GENERAL  COURT.  21 

bers  wore  their  wrappers.  So  I  concluded  that 
my  pepper  and  salt  coat  with  the  blue  satinet 
pantaloons,  would  do  very  well.  I  decided 
though,  to  have  my  drab  hat  new  ironed,  and 
countermanded  the  orders  for  the  cowhide 
boots,  because  kip-skin  would  be  more  gen- 
teel. In  addition  to  this,  because  men  in  pub- 
lic life  should  be  liberal,  and  make  a  more 
respectable  appearance  than  common  folks,  I 
did  n;t  hesitate  long  in  making  up  my  mind 
about  having  a  watch  chain  and  an  imitation 
breast-pin.  "  The  check  handkerchief,"  thinks 
I  to  myself,  "  is  as  good  as  new  ;  and  my  pigtail 
queue  will  look  splendidly  if  the  old  ribbon  is  a 
little  scoured  ?  " 

It  can't  be  described  how  much  the  affairs 
of  the  nation  occupied  my  mind  all  the  next 
day  and  three  weeks  afterwards.  Ensign 
Shute  came  to  see  me  about  the  Byfield  pigs, 
but  I  could  n't  talk  of  anything  but  my  legis- 
lative responsibilities.  u  The  critters  beat  all 
natur' for  squealing,"  says  he,  "  but  they  cut 
capitally  to  pork." — "Ay,"  says  I,  u  there 
must  be  a  quorum  before  we  can  do  any  busi- 
ness."—uThe  old  grunter,"  says  he,  "  will 
soon  be  fat  enough  to  kill."  —  "  Yes,"  says  I, 
"  the  speaker  has  the  casting  vote."  —  "  Your 
new  pig-pen,"   says   he,  "  will   hold  'em  all." 


22  MY  FIRST  AND  LAST  SPEECH 

—  "  I  shall  take  my  seat,"  says  I,  u  and  be 
sworn  in,  according  to  the  constitution." — 
"  What  's  your  opinion  of  corn-cobs  ?  "  says 
he.  "  The  governor  and  council  will  settle 
that,"  says  I. 

The  concerns  of  the  whole  commonwealth 
seemed  to  be  resting  all  on  my  shoulders  as 
heavy  as  a  fiftysix,  and  everything  I  heard 
or  saw  made  me  think  of  the  dignity  of  my 
office.  When  I  met  a  flock  of  geese  on  the 
schoolhouse  green  with  Deacon  Dogskin's  old 
gander  at  the  head,  "  There,"  says  I,  u  goes 
the  speaker  and  all  the  honorable  members." 
This  was  talked  of  up  and  down  the  town, 
as  a  proof  that  I  felt  a  proper  responsibility  ; 
and  Simon  Sly  said  the  comparison  of  the 
geese  was  capital.  I  thought  so  too.  Every- 
body wished  me  joy  of  my  election,  and 
seemed  to  expect  great  things  ;  which  I  did 
not  fail  to  lay  to  heart.  So  having  the  eyes 
of  the  whole  community  upon  me,  I  couldn't 
help  seeing  that  nothing  would  satisfy  them 
if  I  did  not  do  something  for  the  credit  of  the 
town.  Squire  Dobbs,  the  chairman  of  our 
selectmen,  preached  me  a  long  lecture  on 
responsibility  ;  "  Lieutenant  Tuniptop,"  says 
he,  u  I  hope  you  '11  keep  up  the  reputation  of 
Scjuashborough," 


IN  THE  GENERAL  COURT.  23 

"  I  hope  I  shall,  Squire,"  says  I,  holding 
up  my  head,  for  I  felt  my  dignity  rising. 

"  It  's  a  highly  responsible  office,  this  going 
to  the  Gineral  Court,"  says  he. 

"  I  'm  altogether  aware  of  that,"  says  I, 
looking  serious  ;  "  I  'm  aware  of  that,  totally 
and  officially." 

"  I  'm  glad  you  feel  responsible,"  says  he. 

"  I  'm  bold  to  say  that  I  do  feel  the  respon- 
sibility," says  I  —  u  and  I  feel  more  and  more 
responsible,  the  more  I  think  of  it." 

"  Squashborough,"  says  the  Squire,  "  has 
always  been  a  credit  to  the  common- 
wealth — " 

"Who  doubts  it  ?"  says  I. 

"  And  a  credit  to  the  Gineral  Court,"  says 
he. 

"  Ahem  !  "  says  I. 

"  I  hope  you  '11  let  'em  know  what 's  what," 
says  he. 

"  I  guess  I  know  a  thing  or  two,"  says  I. 

"  But,  says  the  Squire,  "  a  representative 
can't  do  his  duty  to  his  constituents  without 
knowing  the  constitution.  It 's  my  opinion 
you  ought  not  to  vote  for  the  dog-tax." 

"That  's  a  matter  that  calls  for  due  delib- 
eration," says  I.  So  I  went  home  and  began 
to  prepare  for  my  legislative   duties.       I   studi- 


24  MY  FIRST  AND    LAST  SPEECH. 

ed  the   statute    on  cart-wheels,  and  the  act  in 
addition  to  an  act  entitled  an  act. 

People  may  sit  in  their  chimney-corners 
and  imagine  it 's  an  easy  thing  to  be  a  repre- 
sentative, but  this  is  a  very  great  mistake. 
For  three  weeks  I  felt  like  a  toad  under  a 
harrow,  such  a  weight  of  responsibility  as  I 
felt  on  thinking  of  my  duties  to  my  constitu- 
ents. But  when  I  came  to  think  how  much 
I  was  expected  to  do  for  the  credit  of  the 
town,  it  was  overwhelming.  All  the  repre- 
sentatives of  our  part  of  the  county  had  done 
great  things  for  their  constituents,  and  I  was 
determined  not  to  do  less.  I  resolved,  there- 
fore, on  the  very  first  consideration,  to  stick  to 
the  following  scheme. 

To  make  a  speech. 

To  make  a  motion  for  a  bank  in  Squashbo- 
rough. 

To  move  that  all  salaries  be  cut  down  one 
half  except  the  pay  of  the  representatives. 

To  second  every  motion  for  adjournment,  — 
And 

Always  to  vote  against  the  Boston  mem- 
bers. 

As  to  the  speech,  though  I  had  not  exactly 
made  up  my  mind  about  the  subject  of  it,  yet 
I  took  care  to  have  it  all  written  before  hand. 


IN  THE  GENERAL  COURT.  25 

This  was  not  so  difficult  as  some  folks  may 
think ;  for,  as  it  was  all  about  my  constitu- 
ents and  responsibility  and  Bunker  Hill  and 
heroes  of  seventysix  and  dying  for  liberty,  it 
would  do  for  any  purpose,  with  a  few  words 
tucked  in  here  and  there.  After  I  had  got  it 
well  by  heart,  I  went  down  in  Cranberry 
Swamp,  out  of  hearing  and  sight  of  anybody, 
and  delivered  it  off,  to  see  how  it  would  go. 
It  went  off  in  capital  style,  till  I  got  nearly 
through,  when  just  as  I  was  saying,  "  Mr 
Speaker,  here  I  stand  for  the  Constitution, " 
Tom  Thumper's  old  he-goat  popped  out  of 
the  bushes  behind,  and  gave  me  such  a  butt 
in  the  rear,  that  I  was  forced  to  make  an  ad- 
journment to  the  other  side  of  the  fence,  to 
finish  it.  After  full  trial,  I  thought  best  to 
write  it  over  again,  and  put  in  more  respon- 
sibility, with  something  about  "  fought,  bled 
and  died." 

When  the  time  came  for  me  to  set  off  for 
Boston,  you  may  depend  upon  it  I  was  all  of 
a  twitter.  In  fact,  I  did  not  exactly  know 
whether  I  was  on  my  head  or  my  heels.  All 
Squashborough  was  alive  :  the  whole  town 
came  to  see  me  set  out.  They  all  gave  me 
strict  charge  to  stand  up  for  my  constituents 
and  vote  down  the  Boston  members.  I  pro- 
3 


26  MY  FIRST  AND  LAST   SPEECH 

mised  them  I  would,  "for  I  'm  sensible  of  my 
responsibility,"  says  I.  I  promised,  besides, 
to  move  heaven  and  earth  to  do  something 
for  Squashborough.  In  short,  I  promised 
everything,  because  a  representative  could  not 
do  less. 

At  last  I  got  to  Boston  ;  and  being  in  good 
season,  I  had  three  whole  days  to  myself  be- 
fore the  session  opened.  By  way  of  doing 
business,  I  went  round  to  all  the  shops,  pre- 
tending I  wanted  to  buy  a  silk  handkerchief. 
I  managed  it  so  as  not  to  spend  anything, 
though  the  shopkeepers  were  mighty  sharp, 
trying  to  hook  me  for  a  bargain  ;  but  I  had 
my  eye-teeth  cut,  and  took  care  never  to  offer 
within  ninepence  of  the  first  cost.  Sometimes 
they  talked  saucy  in  a  joking  kind  of  a  way, 
if  I  happened  to  go  more  than  three  times  to 
the  same  shop  ;  but  when  I  told  them  I  be- 
longed to  the  General  Court,  it  struck  them 
all  of  a  heap,  and  they  did  not  dare  to  do  any- 
thing but  make  faces  to  one  another.  I  think  I 
was  down  upon  them  there. 

The  day  I  took  my  seat,  was  a  day  of  all 
the  days  in  the  year  !  I  shall  never  forget  it. 
I  thought  I  had  never  lived  till  then.  Giles 
Elderberry's  exaltation  when  he  was  made 
hog-reeve,   was  nothing  to  it.     As  for  the  pro- 


IN  THE   GENERAL  COURT.  27 

cession  —  that  beat  cock-fighting  !  I  treated 
myself  to  half  a  sheet  of  gingerbread,  for  I  felt 
as  if  my  purse  would  hold  out  forever.  How- 
ever, I  can't  describe  everything.  We  were 
sworn  in,  and  I  took  my  seat,  though  I  say  it 
myself.  I  took  my  seat  :  all  Boston  was  there 
to  see  me  do  it.  What  a  weight  of  responsi- 
bility I  felt  ! 

It  beats  all  nature  to  see  what  a  difficulty 
there  is  in  getting  a  chance  to  make  a  speech. 
Forty  things  were  put  to  the  vote  and  passed, 
without  my  being  able  to  say  a  word,  though 
I  felt  certain  I  could  have  said  something  upon 
every  one  of  them.  I  had  my  speech  all  ready 
and  was  waiting  for  nothing  but  a  chance  to 
say  "  Mr  Speaker,"  but  something  always  put 
me  out.  This  was  losing  time  dreadfully  — 
however,  I  made  it  up  seconding  motions,  for 
I  was  determined  to  have  my  share  in  the 
business,  out  of  regard  for  my  constituents. 
It 's  true  I  seconded  the  motions  on  both  sides 
of  the  question,  which  always  set  the  other 
members  a  laughing,  but  says  I  to  them, 
"  That  's  my  affair,  how  do  you  know  what 
my  principles  are  ?"  At  last  two  great  ques- 
tions were  brought  forward,  which  seemed  to  be 
too  good  to  lose.  These  were  the  Dogtown 
turnpike,   and   the   Cart-wheel   question.     The 


28  MY  FIRST  AND  LAST  SPEECH 

moment  I  heard  the  last  one  mentioned,  I  felt 
convinced  it  was  just  the  thing  for  me.  The 
other  members  thought  just  so,  for  when  it 
came  up  for  discussion,  a  Berkshire  member 
gave  me  a  jog  with  the  elbow,  "  Turniptop," 
says  he,  "  now  is  your  time.  Squashborough  for- 
ever !"  No  sooner  said  than  done  ;  I  twitched 
off  my  hat  and  called  out  u  Mr  Speaker  !" 

As  sure  as  you  live,  I  had  caught  him  at 
last  ;  there  was  nobody  else  had  spoken  quick 
enough,  and  it  was  as  clear  as  preaching,  I 
had  the  floor.  u  Gentleman  from  Squashbor- 
ough !"  says  he,  —  I  heard  him  say  it  !  "  Now," 
thinks  I  to  myself,  "  I  must  begin,  whether  or 
no."  "  Mr  Speaker,"  says  I  again  ;  but  I  on- 
ly said  it  to  gain  time,  for  I  could  hardly  be- 
lieve that  I  actually  had  the  floor,  and  all  the 
congregated  wisdom  of  the  commonwealth 
was  listening  and  looking  on  ;  the  thought  of 
it  made  me  crawl  all  over.  "  Mr  Speaker," 
says  I,  once  more.  Everybody  looked  round 
at  me.  Thinks  I  to  myself  a  second  time, 
u  there  's  no  clawing  off,  this  hitch.  I  mus^ 
begin  ;  and  so  here  goes  !" 

Accordingly  I  gave  a  loud  hem  !  and  said 
"Mr  Speaker,"  for  the  fourth  time.  "Mr 
Speaker,"  said  I,  "  I  rise  to  the  question  " — - 
though  it  did  not  strike  my  mind,  that  I  had 


IN  THE   GENERAL    COURT.  29 

been  standing  up  ever  since  I  came  into  the 
house.  "  I  rise  to  this  question,  Mr  Speak- 
er," says  I.  But  to  see  how  terribly  strange 
some  things  work  !  No  sooner  had  I  fairly  rose 
to  the  question  and  got  a  chance  to  make  my 
speech,  than  I  began  to  wish  myself  a  hun- 
dred miles  off.  Five  minutes  before,  I  was 
as  bold  as  a  lion,  but  now  I  should  have  been 
glad  to  crawl  into  a  knot-hole.  cc  Mr  Speak- 
er, I  rise  to  the  question,"  says  I  :  but  I  am 
bound  to  say  that  instead  of  rising,  my  voice 
began  to  fall.  "  Mr  Speaker,"  said  I  again, 
"  I  rise  to  the  question,"  but  the  more  I  rose 
to  the  question,  the  more  the  question  seemed 
to  fall  away  from  me.  And  just  at  that  min- 
ute, a  little  fat  round-faced  man  with  a  bald 
head,  that  was  sitting  right  before  me,  speaks 
to  another  member  and  says,  C£  What  squeak- 
ing fellow  is  that  ?  "  It  dashed  me  a  good 
deal,  and  I  don't  know  but  I  should  have  sat 
right  down  without  another  word,  but  Colo- 
nel Crabapple,  the  member  from  Turkeytown, 
gave  me  a  twitch  by  the  tail  of  my  Wrapper, 
"That's  right,  Turniptop,"  says  he,  u  give 
them  the  grand  touch  !  "  This  had  a  mighty 
encouraging  effect,  and  so  I  hemmed  and  hawked 
three  or  four  times,  and  at  last  made  a  begin- 
ning. 

"  Mr  Speaker,"  says   I,  "  this   is   a  subject 
3* 


30  MY  FIRST  AND  LAST  SPEECH 

of  vital  importance.  The  question  is,  Mr 
Speaker,  on  the  amendment.  I  have  a  deci- 
ded opinion  on  that  point,  Mr  Speaker.  I 
am  altogether  opposed  to  the  last  gentleman, 
and  I  feel  bound  in  duty  to  my  constituents? 
Mr  Speaker,  and  the  responsibility  of  my  of- 
fice, to  express  my  mind  on  this  question. 
Mr  Speaker,  our  glorious  forefathers  fought, 
bled  and  died  for  glorious  liberty.  I  am  op- 
posed to  this  question,  Mr  Speaker,  — my  con- 
stituents have  a  vital  interest  in  the  subject 
of  cart-wheels.  Let  us  take  a  retrospective 
view,  Mr  Speaker,  of  the  present  condition  of 
all  the  kingdoms  and  tribes  of  the  earth. 
Look  abroad,  Mr  Speaker,  over  the  wide  ex- 
pansion of  nature's  universe  beyond  the  bla- 
zing billows  of  the  Atlantic  !  Behold  Bona- 
parte going  about  like  a  roaring  thunderbolt  ! 
All  the  world  is  turned  topsy-turvy,  and  there 
is  a  terrible  rousing  among  the  sons  of  men. 
—  But  to  return  to  the  subject,  Mr  Speaker. 
I  am  decidedly  opposed  to  the  amendment  : 
it  is  contrary  to  the  principles  of  freedom  and 
the  principles  of  responsibility.  Tell  it  to 
your  children,  Mr  Speaker,  and  to  your  chil- 
dren's children,  that  freedom  is  not  to  be 
bartered,  like  Esau,  for  a  mess  of  potash. 
Liberty   is    the   everlasting    birthright   of    the 


IN  THE  GENERAL  COURT.  31 

grand  community  of  nature's  freemen.  Sir, 
the  member  from  Boston  talks  of  horse- 
shoes, but  I  hope  we  shall  stand  up  for  our 
rights.  If  we  only  stand  up  for  our  rights, 
Mr  Speaker,  our  rights  will  stand  up  for  us, 
and  we  shall  all  stand  uprightly,  without 
shivering  or  shaking.  Mr  Speaker,  these  are 
awful  times  ;  money  is  hard  to  get,  whatever 
the  gentleman  from  Rowley  may  say  about 
pumpkins.  A  true  patriot  will  die  for  his 
country.  May  we  all  imitate  the  glorious 
example  and  die  for  our  country.  Give  up 
keeping  cows  !  Mr  Speaker  !  what  does  the 
honorable  gentleman  mean  ?  Is  not  agricul- 
ture to  be  cultivated  ?  He  that  sells  his  lib- 
erty, Mr  Speaker,  is  worse  than  a  cannibal, 
a  hottentot  or  a  hippopotamus.  The  member 
from  Charlestown  has  brought  his  pigs  to  the 
wrong  market.  I  stand  up  for  cart-wheels, 
and  so  do  my  constituents.  When  our  coun- 
try calls  us,  Mr  Speaker,  with  the  voice  of  a 
speaking-trumpet,  may  we  never  be  backward 
in  coming  forward  :  and  all  honest  men  ought 
to  endeavor  to  keep  the  rising  generation  from 
falling.  Not  to  dwell  upon  this  point,  Mr 
Speaker,  let  us  now  enter  into  the  subject  :  In 
the  first  place,"  — 

Now   it  happened  that  just  at  this  moment 


32  MY  FIRST  AND    LAST  SPEECH 

the  little  fat,  bald-headed,  round-faced  man 
wriggled  himself  round  exactly  in  front  of  me, 
so  that  I  could  not  help  seeing  him  ;  and  just 
as  I  was  saying  u  rising  generation,"  he  twist- 
ed the  corners  of  his  mouth  into  a  queer  sort 
of  a  pucker  on  one  side,  and  rolled  the  whites 
of  his  little  grey,  winking  eyes  right  up  in 
my  face.  The  members  all  stared  straight  at 
us,  and  made  a  kind  of  a  snickering  cluck, 
ducky  clucks  cluck,  that  seemed  to  run  whis- 
tling over  the  whole  house.  I  felt  awfully 
bothered,  —  I  can't  tell  how,  — but  it  gave  me 
such  a  jerk  off  the  hooks  that  I  could  not  re- 
member the  next  words  ;  so  I  felt  in  my 
pocket  for  the  speech  —  it  was  not  there  :  — 
then  in  my  hat,  —  it  was  not  there  :  —  then 
behind  me,  then  both  sides  of  me,  but  lo  and 
behold  !  it  was  not  to  be  found.  The  next 
instant  I  remembered  that  I  had  taken  it  out 
of  my  hat  in  a  shop  in  Dock  Square  that 
morning,  while  I  was  comparing  the  four 
corners  of  my  check  handkerchief  with  a 
bandanna.  That  was  enough,  —  I  knew  as 
quick  as  lightning  that  I  was  a  gone  goose. 
I  pretended  to  go  on  with  my  speech,  and 
kept  saying,  "  rising  generation,  my  constitu- 
ents, enter  into  the  subject,  Mr  Speaker." 
But   I  made  hawk's  meat  of  it,  you  may  de- 


IN    THE    GENERAL    COURT.  33 

pend.  Finally  nobody  could  stand  it  any  longer; 
the  little  fat  man  with  the  round  face  put  his 
thumb  to  the  side  of  his  nose,  and  made  a  sort 
of  twinkling  with  his  fingers  ;  the  speaker  began 
to  giggle,  and  the  next  minute  the  whole  house 
exploded  like  a  bomb  shell.  I  snatched  up  my 
hat  under  cover  of  the  smoke,  made  one  jump 
to  the  door,  and  was  down  stairs  before  you 
could  say,   "  Second  the  motion  !" 


BIOGRAPHY  OF  A  BROOMSTICK. 

When  I  considered  these  things,  I  sighed  and  said  within 
myself,  "  Surely  man  is  a  broomstick  !  " 

SwifVs  Meditations  on  a  Broomstick. 

Doctor  Johnson  is  known  to  have  said  he 
could  make  a  capital  book  of  the  Life  of  a 
Broomstick.  It  is  astonishing  the  book-making 
tribe  have  never  taken  this  hint ;  for  nobody  has 
ever  written  such  a  work,  notwithstanding  the 
fruitfulness  of  the  subject.  Writers  have  given 
us  the  lives  of  innumerable  dunces,  old  grannies, 
fops,  bores  and  do-littles.  All  sorts  of  nobodies 
and  good-for-nothing  two-legged  creatures  have 
had  their  memories  embalmed  in  bad  English 
and  balderdash  eloquence  ;  but  hitherto  no  one 
except  the  Great  Moralist  seems  to  have  been 
aware  of  the  biographical  capabilities  of  broom- 
sticks. As  I  have  the  honor,  therefore  of 
being  born  a  broomstick,  I  shall  proceed  to 
relate  the  events  of  my  life  according  to  the 
most  approved  models  of  biographical  compo- 
sition. 


BIOGRAPHY    OF    A    BROOMSTICK.  35 

Broomsticks,  dear  reader,  are  important 
things  ;  your  wife  has  doubtless  given  you  a 
hint  of  this  before.  The  life  of  a  broomstick 
must,  in  consequence,  abound  in  striking 
events,  and  furnish  the  speculative  philos- 
opher with  topics  for  profound  reflection.  My 
family  is  ancient,  for  the  pedigree  can  be 
traced  to  Noah,  who,  it  is  pretty  certain,  took 
a  supply  of  broomsticks  in  the  ark,  well 
knowing  he  should  have  plenty  of  sweeping 
to  do.  This  being  settled,  let  none  hereafter 
deny  the  antiquity  of  broomsticks.  See  the 
treatise  of  Maimonides  ;  De  Broomstickorum 
vetere  prosapia,  cum  notis  Johannis  Bambou- 
zelbergii,  edit.  Lugduni  Batav.  1662. 

But  to  make  a  slight  transition  from  Noah's 
ark  to  the  county  of  Worcester  in  which 
place  I  first  became  a  broomstick,  I  must 
begin  my  life  by  saying  that  I  owe  existence 
to  a  celebrated  manufacturer  of  birchen  com- 
modities, who  lacking  timber  of  his  own, 
stole  me  in  the  shape  of  a  sapling  from  the 
woods  of  one  of  his  neighbors.  After  proper 
metamorphosis  into  the  regular  form  of  a 
household  implement,  I  passed  somewhat 
surreptitiously  into  the  hands  of  a  Connecti- 
cut pedler.  To  speak  more  distinctly,  I  was 
first  stolen  as    stuff  for    making,  and  then  sto- 


36  BIOGRAPHY    OF    A  BROOMSTICK. 

len  ready  made.  My  readers,  I  dare  say, 
have  heard  loose  reports  of  this  circumstance 
before.  The  fact  is  indubitable,  and  shows 
the  strange  vicissitudes  to  which  pedlers  and 
broomsticks  are  liable  in  this  uncertain  life. 

The  pedler  carried  me  to  Boston,  where  he 
sold  me  with  all  his  load  to  a  grocer  at  the 
South  End  ;  here  I  remained  on  hand  several 
weeks,    till  at    length    I     was   bought  by    the 

housemaid    of    a  gentleman    in  — '■ Street, 

and  taken  regularly  into  service.  I  blush  to 
say  that  at  my  first  entrance  into  public  life, 
I  was  employed  in  all  sorts  of  dirty  work. 
I  should  certainly  have  suppressed  this  par- 
ticular, were  it  not  that  it  offers  a  surprising 
coincidence  with  the  career  of  so  many  great 
men  of  the  present  day. 

Such  an  outset,  I  need  hardly  say,  did  not 
please  me  at  all.  I  was  up  betimes  in  the 
morning,  travelled  briskly  through  the  entry, 
kitchen,  yard  and  cellar,  and  then  poked  be- 
hind a  door  to  rest.  Day  after  day  the  same 
dull  routine  was  repeated,  and  I  began  to 
think  I  should  never  know  an  adventure,  or 
see  anything  of  high  life.  Three  months 
elapsed  before  I  even  got  a  peep  into  the  par- 
lor. But  an  unlooked-for  accident  brought 
me  to  play  a  more  important  part  in  the  do- 
mestic concerns  of  the  house. 


BIOGRAPHY    OF  A    BROOMSTICK.  37 

The  gentleman  to  whom  I  had  the  honor  of 
belonging,  was  a  young  man  who  had  met 
with  great  good  luck,  that  is  to  say,  he  had 
married  a  fortune.  His  spouse  was  a  lady  of 
no  great  personal  charms  and  considerably 
his  superior  in  years.  My  gentleman,  how- 
ever, having  an  empty  purse  and  a  fine  figure, 
very  generously  overlooked  all  objections 
arising  from  the  disparity  of  their  ages,  and 
married  the  lady  for  love,  —  so  he  said,  and 
nobody  contradicted  him.  The  honey-moon 
passed  delightfully,  and  all  parties  proclaimed 
it  a  blessed  match.  The  lady  was  happy 
that  she  had  such  a  fine,  gay,  pleasant,  sensi- 
ble, good-natured  husband.  The  husband 
was  happy  that  he  had  so  many  bank  shares 
and  brick  houses.  This  was  surely  a  delight- 
ful prospect  in  life,  but  like  many  other  de- 
lightful prospects,  it  came  to  nothing,  to  the 
utter  astonishment  of  all  concerned. 

One  evening  rather  late,  I  was  standing  in 
a  dark  corner  of  the  kitchen,  in  company 
with  my  two  friends,  the  mop  and  the  warm- 
ing-pan, when  I  heard  the  front  door  shut 
with  more  than  common  emphasis.  About 
a  quarter  of  an  hour  after  this,  Dolly  the 
housemaid  came  running  into  the  kitchen, 
and  seizing  hold  of  me,  glided  off  on  tiptoe 
4 


38  BIOGRAPHY    OF    A  BROOMSTICK. 

through  the  entry.  I  had  not  time  to  conjec- 
ture what  could  be  the  occasion  of  this  extraor- 
dinary movement,  before  I  heard  voices  in 
a  pretty  exalted  pitch  in  the  adjoining  room. 
Something  had  evidently  taken  place  to  dis- 
turb the  domestic  tranquillity  of  those  sweet 
turtle-doves,  our  master  and  mistress,  and 
Dolly  having  overheard  enough  to  excite  her 
curiosity,  had  crept  to  the  parlor  door  to  listen, 
taking  me  with  her  as  a  sham,  that  she  might 
pretend  being  about  work,  in  case  she  should 
be  caught  eaves-dropping.  So  putting  her 
ear  to  the  door  and  holding  her  breath,  she 
heard  every  syllable  of  what  passed. 

My  gentleman,  it  seems,  had  come  home 
several  hours  later  than  he  was  expected, 
greatly  to  the  disappointment  of  his  better 
half,  who,  on  the  moment  of  his  appearance, 
set  upon  him  with  reproaches  for  neglecting 
her.  To  my  surprise,  though  probably  not 
to  hers,  he  replied  in  a  manner  that  showed 
a  very  recent  familiarity  with  the  good  crea- 
ture Champaigne.  He  was  very  talkative 
and  dogmatical,  and  threw  off  all  reserve. 

"  Really,  sir,"  said  his  wife,  with  as  much 
sullenness  in  her  looks  as  she  had  been  able 
to  call  up  in  the  three  hours  she  had  been 
brooding  over  her  wrongs  —  u  Really,  sir,  this 
is  too  bad." 


P.  39. 


"lorn  askameds  of  you  sir. 

'  Js//f////«/  i>/'///c /w//v  /'////  not  as7uvnecl  <}/  you 


BIOGRAPHY   OF  A  BROOMSTICK.  39 

"Too  bad  ?  my  dear  !  "  answered  the  gen- 
tleman with  a  show  of  the  greatest  amaze- 
ment, "  too  bad,  my  dear,  what  do  you  mean, 
my  dear  ?  " 

"Mean  ?  sir,"  that  is  a  pretty  question,  a 
very  pretty  question,  hah  ! "  returned  she, 
pretending  to  make  believe  laugh.  "  A  pretty 
question,  what  it  means  when  folks  complain 
of  such  treatment.  But  you  grow  worse  and 
worse,  sir  ;  't  is  the  twentieth  time,  sir,  the  for- 
tieth time — the  hundredth  time  that  you 
have  neglected  me  so,  and  affronted  me  so, 
and  mortified  me  so  !  "  Here  she  put  her  hand- 
kerchief to  her  eyes. 

"  My  dear  soul,"  returned  he  in  a  very 
soothing  tone,  "you  are  crazy  !  How  can 
you  say  I  neglect  you  ?  Don't  I  come  home 
every  day  to  dinner,  except  now  and  then  ?  " 

"Crazy  !  "  exclaimed  the  offended  fair  one, 
"  it  would  not  be  surprising  if  such  doings 
should  drive  a  woman  crazy.  Sir,  you  neg- 
glect  me  shamefully  ;  you  neglect  your  family, 
sir,  let  me  tell  you  that  !  and  people  know  it, 
sir  ;  I  am  ashamed  of  you,  sir." 

"  You  don't  say  so,  my  dear,"  retorted  he 
with  pretended  earnestness  :  "  ashamed  of  me  ? 
Why,  I  am  not  ashamed  of  you." 

"Ashamed  of  me!"  interrupted    his    wife, 


40  BIOGRAPHY   OF  A  BROOMSTICK. 

and  reddenning  at  the  insinuation,  "  what  do 
you  mean  ?  But  I  see  you  care  nothing  about 
me  ;  no,  you  care  for  nothing  but  to  spend 
my  money  with  a  pack  of  low  fellows." 

"  Please  to  spare  your  reflections  upon  the 
gentlemen  of  my  acquaintance  :  you  are  no 
judge  of  character,  sweet  woman." 

"  Sir,  I  tell  you  I  will  bear  it  no  longer  ; 
replied  the  spouse,  growing  more  and  more 
passionate;  "you  are  an  unfeeling  creature 
and  an  ungrateful  creature.  I  think  I  am  en- 
titled to  some  respect,  sir  —  consider  your  obli- 
gations to  me." 

"Obligations  forsooth!"  said  the  husband, 
beginning  to  feel  his  temper  disturbed  at  this 
fling  from  his  wife.  "  Heyday  !  consider  your 
obligations  to  me  too." 

"  What  sir,  obligations  !  pray  what  obliga- 
tions !  Did  n't  I  marry  you,  sir,  when  you 
had  n't  a  cent  in  your  pocket  ?  Did  n't  I  make 
a  gentleman  of  you,  sir  ?  answer  me  that." 

"  And  did  n't  I  marry  you,  ma'am,"  re- 
turned the  gentleman  raising  his  voice,  and 
growing  more  and  more  rufTled,  u  did  n't  I 
marry  you  when  you  was  at  the  last  point  of 
desperation,  with  all  the  horrors  of  single  bles- 
sedness staring  you  in  the  face  !  " 

u  'T  is  false,  sir  !  "  exclaimed  his    lady  with 


BIOGRAPHY    OF    A  BROOMSTICK.  41 

great  violence.  c:  I  had  a  dozen  offers  —  good 
offers,  sir ;  but  1  was  fool  enough  to  marry 
you,  sir.  I  saved  you  from  the  deputy  sheriff; 
—  you  may  thank  me,  sir,  that  you  are  not  at 
this  moment  boarding  at  free  cost  in  Ward 
No.  5." 

"  Oho  !  since  you  are  come  to  that,"  said 
the  gentleman,  in  a  very  firm  tone,  and  pre- 
tending the  greatest  nonchalance,  u  I  think 
quite  as  much  might  be  said  on  the  other 
side  ;  for  let  me  tell  you,  old  lady,  a  young 
fellow  that  has  prospects,  can't  be  expected  to 
throw  himself  away  for  nothing." 

To  call  a  lady  old,  is  an  offence,  says  Cer- 
vantes, that  none  of  the  sex  can  forgive.  It 
is  the  last  thing  indeed,  which  a  middle-aged 
belle  wishes  to  be  reminded  of.  Our  lady 
was  very  touchy  upon  this  point,  and  she 
burst  out  — 

ct  You  are  an  ill-mannered  fellow,  sir  ;  you 
are  a  brute  and  a  barba  ian !  You  mean  to 
kill  me  with  your  vile  behavior.  I  wish  I  may 
live  a  thousand  years  to  vex  you.  I  won't 
stay  another  moment  in  your  company.  Oh ! 
fie  !  you  wretch  ?" 

With    this    explosion    of   rage,    she   sprang 
from    her   seat,  and    seizing    the    door    with   a 
most  tremendous  jerk,  threw   it    open.     Now 
4* 


42  BIOGRAPHY  OF  A  BROOMSTICK. 

all  this  was  done  so  instantaneously  that 
Dolly,  who  was  standing  in  breathless  immo- 
bility, leaning  against  the  outside,  had  not 
above  three  quarters  of  a  second's  warning 
of  her  approach,  so  that  the  door  flying  open 
in  an  instant,  the  mistress  and  maid  came 
slap  together  with  a  momentum  not  much  in- 
ferior to  that  of  two  locomotives  on  a  rail- 
way. The  awkwardness  of  the  collision 
need  not  be  described,  but  this  was  not  the 
worst  part  of  the  affair.  The  lady's  temper 
was  none  of  the  sweetest,  and  the  quarrel 
with  her  husband  had  made  her  a  hundred 
times  more  irritable  than  common.  Enraged 
at  the  thought  of  having  her  family  quarrels 
discovered,  for  she  had  pride  as  well  as  tem- 
per, she  flew  upon  the  luckless  listener,  and 
snatching  me  from  her  hands  before  she 
could  think  of  a  word  to  say  in  her  defence, 
gave  her  such  a  beating,  that  poor  Dolly  roar- 
ed for  help  and  bestowed  internally  ten 
thousand  maledictions  on  that  evil  spirit  of 
curiosity  that  had  prompted  her  to  busy  her- 
self with  the  conjugal  endearments  of  her 
betters.  The  husband  was  not  displeased 
to  find  the  storm  diverted  from  himself  to 
another  object,  but  was  at  length  obliged  to 
interfere,   lest   the   punishment   should    exceed 


BIOGRAPHY  OF  A  BROOMSTICK.  43 

the  offence.  He  snatched  me  from  the  hands 
of  his  wife,  and  bade  the  luckless  maid  go 
about  her  business,  and  forbear  eaves-drop- 
ping in  future.  But  Dolly  was  not  so  easily 
pacified.  "  She  would  n't  stay  another  mo- 
ment in  the  house,  not  she.  Folks  need  n't 
think  they  was  to  treat  their  helps  like  dogs, 
that  they  must  n't.  She  was  as  good  flesh 
and  blood  as  any  body,  she  'd  have  'em  to 
know.  Off  she  'd  go  that  instant,  bag  and 
baggage,  and  she  'd  have  the  law  on  them  for 
all  their  gentility."  With  these  protestations, 
and  a  thousand  others  just  like  them,  accom- 
panied with  divers  tossings  of  the  head  and 
twistings  of  the  nose,  she  left  the  house. 

The  next  morning  beheld  me  travelling  to 
Court  Street,  where  Dolly  told  her  piteous 
tale  to  a  lawyer,  and  exhibited  me  in  evidence. 
"  Here  is  the  very  broomstick  to  prove  it,  sir  ; 
every  word  of  it  is  true,  and  if  you  won't  be- 
lieve me,  you  must  believe  the  broomstick  : 
two  witnesses  will  hang  anybody.  If  there  's 
lawT  in  the  land,  I  '11  have  justice  done  for  me 
and  the  broomstick." —  "  No  doubt  on  't,"  re- 
plied the  learned  gentleman  ;  "  leave  the 
broomstick  wTith  me,  and  I  '11  make  a  flourish 
with  it  to  some  purpose  ;  but  hark  'ee,  don't 
say    anything   of  this    affair   to   anybody    else. 


44  BIOGRAPHY   OF  A  BROOMSTICK. 

You  shall  have  justice  done  you,  but  leave  it 
to  me."     Dolly  went  her  way  and  the  lawyer 

ran  to  my  gentleman.       "Mr ,"  said   he, 

u  this  is  an  ugly  affair  of  yours  ;  could  n't  you 
make  it  up  ?  The  girl  swears  she  '11  have  it  in 
the  newspapers  to  morrow.  Now,  as  a  friend 
to  you,  I  should  be  horrified  to  see  such  a 
scandal  get  abroad  about  a  respectable  family 
like  yours  !  I  would  not  for  a  thousand  dol- 
lars that  the  affair  should  get  wind."  These 
alarms  had  a  great  effect  upon  my  master  and 
mistress,  who  by  this  time  had  begun  to  en- 
tertain some  cool  reflections  upon  the  doings 
of  the  last  evening,  and  they  inquired  with 
great  anxiety  whether  the  matter  could  not 
be  hushed  up.  "  'T  is  the  very  thing  I  have- 
to  propose,"  said  the  attorney,  "  the  complain- 
ant has  offered  to  compound  for  a  considera- 
tion."—  "  How  much  ?  "  asked  the  husband. — 
"  Five  hundred  dollars,"  replied  the  man  of 
law.  u  Five  hundred  !  "  exclaimed  the  lov- 
ing couple  at  once,  in  the  most  dismal  tone  of 
astonishment.  "  Ay,"  returned  the  peacema- 
ker "  but  I  beat  her  down  to  two  hundred, 
for  I  told  her  she  must  be  reasonable."  — "  The 
devil  confound  such  reason  !  "  exclaimed  the 
gentleman;  "  what,  two  hundred  dollars  for 
half  a  dozen  thumps  with  a  broomstick  !  —  I 


BIOGRAPHY  OF  A  BROOMSTICK.  45 

won't  pay  it."  u  Why  then,  there 's  nothing 
more  to  be  said,"  replied  the  lawyer  gravely, 
cc  and  the  matter  must  go  before  the  court." 
This  was  an  ugly  thought  to  my  gentleman. 
ct  Say  a  hundred  and  fifty,"  said  he,  u  and 
done."  My  honest  friend,  the  attorney,  took  a 
pinch  of  snuff,  and  after  a  few  seconds  hesi- 
tation replied — "  Well,  since  you  won't  of- 
fer more,  let  me  have  the  money  and  I  '11  try 
what  can  be  done  with  her."  Very  reluctant- 
ly, my  fine  gentleman  drew  a  check  for  the 
money,  and  the  man  of  law  departed,  protest- 
ing that  it  grieved  him  to  the  soul,  but  he 
would  make  any  sacrifice  to  save  his  friend's 
character. 

A  few  days  after,  came  his  client  to  inquire 
about  her  cause.  She  was  directed  to  call 
again  the  next  week.  At  the  second  call,  the 
matter  was  postponed  for  a  fortnight  :  the 
next  time,  for  three  weeks  ;  and  so  on  till  the 
unlucky  maid  became  pretty  well  tired  of  the 
law's  delay.  After  a  long  time,  he  informed 
her  that  the  case  looked  rather  bad,  and  hint- 
ed that  she  had  better  try  to  make  it  up. 
Dolly  who  by  this  time  no  longer  felt  the 
smart  of  her  bruises,  and  began  to  have  fears 
that  the  case  might  go  against  her,  readily 
listened   to    the  suggestion    and    inquired    how 


46  BIOGRAPHY   OF  A  BROOMSTICK. 

much  she  might  hope  to  get  as  hush-money. 
"I  can't  tell  replied  the  conscientious  gen- 
tleman, "  but  if  you  could  get  ten  dollars,  I 
should  advise  you  as  a  friend  to  withdraw 
your  action."  "  Ten  dollars  !  "  exclaimed  the 
battered  Abigail,  —  "well,  if  you  think  I  'd  bet- 
ter "  —  "  Really  I  do,"  replied  he  ;  "  take  my 
word  as  a  friend,  I  wish  to  give  you  honest 
advice, —  that's  always  my  rule."  The  re- 
sult of  this  negociation  was  that  the  ten  dol- 
lars were  paid,  and  so  the  matter  ended,  veri- 
fying the  old  adage,  "blessed  are  the  makers 
of  peace,  but  cursed  are  the  breakers  of  it." 

Meantime  I  was  forgotten,  and  stood  behind 
the  lawyer's  door  for  six  months.  What 
scenes  I  witnessed,  are  nothing  to  my  present 
purpose,  since  I  was  rather  a  spectator  than 
an  actor  in  them.  I  became  initiated  into  the 
mysteries  of  the  legal  profession,  upon  the 
philosophy  of  which  I  shall  make  no  moral  re- 
flections from  sheer  inability  ;  for  the  length 
and  breadth  of  a  lawyer's  conscience  are  be- 
yond the  capacity  of  any  common  broomstick 
to  measure.  But  one  day  a  certain  customer 
of  my  master's,  a  rather  unsophisticated  wight, 
finding  his  pockets  emptied  of  a  swingeing 
sum  by  the  ingenuity  of  this  gentleman,  stood 
aghast   at    the    catastrophe,    hardly    willing   to 


BIOGRAPHY   OF  A   BROOMSTICK.  47 

believe  his  senses  in  evidence  of  such  diaboli- 
cal impudence.  Finding,  however,  that  it  was 
"  no  mistake,"  he  moved  towards  the  door 
determined  to  say  his  "  good-bye  "  in  a  style 
that  would  ring  like  a  clap  of  thunder. 

"I'll  tell  you  what  I  think  of  you,  sir," 
said  he  in  a  solemn  voice,  and  holding  the 
door  in  one  hand,  ready  to  fire  and  run. 

"  Well,"  said  the  man  of  law,  very  com- 
posedly. 

"  I  think  you  a  very   great  rascal  !  " 

Expecting  to  see  the  enraged  attorney  ex- 
plode like  a  bomb  shell  at  this  attack,  he  stood 
a  moment  to  enjoy  the  effect,  but  what  words 
can  describe  his  astonishment,  when  his  an- 
tagonist answered  with  the  most  gentle 
smile  — 

"  Pooh  !  pooh,  I  've  been  told  that  a  hun- 
dred times." 

This  was  too  much  ;  flesh  and  blood  could 
not  bear  it.  "  I  '11  have  it  out  of  his  hide," 
thought  the  unlucky  litigant  ;  and  at  that  mo- 
ment his  eye  fell  on  me,  who  stood  close  at 
hand,  as  it  were,  inviting  him  to  seize  and  lay 
on.  In  a  trice  he  clutched  me  by  the  end,  and 
made  so  brisk  a  flourishing  over  the  sconce 
of  his  legal  friend,  that  he  roared  with  more 
eloquence  than  he  ever   did  to   a  jury.      The 


48  BIOGRAPHY   OF  A   BROOMSTICK. 

neighbors  running  in  at  the  noise,  put  an  end 
to  this  administration  of  justice,  and  the  assail- 
ant was  tumbled  down  stairs  into  the  street, 
where  he  was  seized  by  a  constable.  For  my 
part,  I  was  carried  by  that  official  to  his  own 
house  in  order  to  be  forthcoming  when  the  in- 
dictment for  the  assault  should  be  drawn. 
But  just  after  this,  certain  affairs  of  the  afore- 
said attorney  coming  to  light,  which  were  like- 
ly to  render  his  stay  in  Boston  inconvenient,  he 
disappeared  between  two  days,  and  the  prose- 
cution was  dropped. 

In  the  constable's  house  I  was  put  to  vari- 
ous uses  ;  the  most  worthy  of  mention  was 
that  of  being  ridden  as  a  horse  by  one  of  his 
boys.  Having  performed  this  office  one  af- 
ternoon, I  was  left  by  the  urchin  in  the  street, 
where  I  expected  to  pass  the  night  :  but  about 
ten  o'clock  in  the  evening  I  was  aroused  from 
a  profound  revery  by  a  sound  of  footsteps 
breaking  the  lonely  silence  of  the  obscure  lane 
where  I  lay.  A  figure  approached  with  looks 
bent  on  the  ground  and  cautiously  peeping 
into  every  corner  he  passed,  as  if  hunting  for 
rags  and  old  shoes.  By  the  light  of  the  moon 
he  espied  me  as  I  lay  in  the  gutter,  and  ea- 
gerly caught  me  up.  We  passed  up  the  street 
and  down  another,  in  at    this    lane   and   out  at 


BIOGRAPHY   OF  A   BROOMSTICK.  49 

that,  my  master  picking  up  various  valuable 
commodities  in  bis  way,  till  be  found  his 
pockets  stuffed  with  old  newspapers,  bits  of 
leather,  marrow-bones,  broken  glass,  rope 
yarn,  old  iron,  cork  stopples,  and  odds  and 
ends  of  every  article  of  domestic  economy  that 
can  find  its  way  into  a  dust-heap. 

The  individual  into  whose  hands  I  had 
thus  fallen,  was  a  lean,  scarecrow  looking  per- 
sonage, in  a  threadbare  coat  and  an  old  rusty 
hat,  yet,  so  far  from  being  a  beggar,  or  the 
keeper  of  an  old  junk  shop,  was  one  of  the 
richest  men  in  Boston,  who  turned  an  honest 
penny  by  accommodating  gentlemen  in  pinch- 
ing circumstances  with  ready  cash,  at  a  rate 
of  interest  corresponding  to  the  scarcity  of  the 
commodity.  These  transactions  were  com- 
monly done  in  a  sly  place  not  far  from  Faneuil 
Hall  Market,  for  this  obliging  old  soul  did  not 
care  to  have  his  liberality  obtruded  upon  the 
notice    of  the    public,    and    always    manifested 

great  uneasiness   when  the  folks  in  the  

Insurance  Office  dropped  hints  about  letting 
money  at  ten  per  cent,  a  month.  However, 
that  is  neither  here  nor  there.  It  was  late  at 
night,  and  he  trudged  down  street  with  me  to 
the  market,  where  my  gentleman  began  to 
peer  about  among  the  lobsters,  and  after  in- 
5 


■60  BIOGRAPHY   OF  A  BROOMSTICK, 

specting  several  lots,  at  last  pitched  upon  one 
just  about  spoiling,  for  which  he  offered  half 
price,  as  it  was  a  hot  night.  The  bargain  was 
concluded,  after  some  higgling,  the  purchaser, 
upon  a  second  examination,  insisting  upon  a 
further  deduction  of  two  cents,  in  consequence 
of  the  deficiency  of  a  claw. 

My  master  wrapped  his  purchase  up  safe 
in  an   old  newspaper,   and   set    off  homeward. 

We  entered  the  yard  of  a  house  in Street, 

and  he  bolted  the  gate  very  carefully  behind 
him,  and  took  us  into  the  kitchen,  where  we 
found  his  wife  sitting  by  the  light  of  the  small- 
est of  all  tallow  candles.  u  Cre-ation  !  ma'am  !" 
he  exclaimed,  "  what  now  ?  what  now  ?  — 
Burning  out  light  to  waste  in  this  manner  ! 
What  upon  earth  is  the  meaning  of  all  this  ?" 

"  Nothing,  Mr  Gripps,  but  waiting  for  Isaac, 
the  boy  has  n't  got  home  yet,"  replied  the 
wife. 

"  What  !  what  !  what 's  that  you  say  ?  not 
got  home  yet  ?  Half  after  ten,  and  not  home 
yet !  Cre-ation  !  the  creature  's  bewitched  !" 

"  As  sure  as  you  live,  it 's  true  !  Mr  Gripps, 
and  yet  I  gave  him  a  strict  charge  to  be  home 
in  season,"  returned  she. 

u  So  did  I  —  so  did  I,"  said  the  old  miser, 
beginning  to   work  himself  up   into  a  passion. 


BIOGRAPHY   OF  A  BROOMSTICK.  51 

"  How  many  times  I  've  told  him  so  !  This 
won't  do,  this  won't  do  !  Let  him  go  to  bed 
in  the  dark.  Shan't  have  candles  to  burn  to 
waste.  Go  to  ruin  hand  over  fist  !  —  Cre-a- 
tion  !"  So  saying  he  opened  his  bundle  and 
laid  the  lobster  very  carefully  upon  the  dres- 
ser. 

"  There  !"  he  exclaimed,  fixing  his  little  grey 
bargain-making  eyes  upon  the  choice  morsel 
with  a  look  of  mingled  resignation  and  sor- 
row. "  There  's  a  dinner  for  Wednesday,  cost 
ten  cents! — wouldn't  take  less  for  it  —  ten 
cents  !  Ugh  !  Souse  it  in  vinegar  and  it  '11  be 
sure  to  keep  :  't  will  make  two  good  dinners 
and  something  to  save  besides  :  we  can  cer- 
tainly make  it  last  till  Friday  ;  why  not  ? 
why  not  ?" 

"Why,  Mr  Gripps,"  replied  his  wife, 
"  there  's  nothing  for  dinner  tomorrow  ;  you 
know  it  really  can't  last  till  Friday." 

<c  Ods  !  my  life  !"  he  exclaimed  in  the 
greatest  astonishment,  "  nothing  for  dinner 
tomorrow  ?  what  !  all  the  tom-cods  gone  ? 
Cre-ation  !" 

"  All  ate  up  but  the  one  you  saved  for 
supper,  and  what  do  you  think,  Mr  Gripps  ? 
I  verily  believe  Tim  Dobson's  old  cat  has 
stole  it,  for  I  have  n't  seen  hide  nor  hair  of  it 
since  the  morning  !" 


52  BIOGRAPHY    OF    A    BROOMSTICK. 

"  Cre-ation  !"  exclaimed  old  Gripps,  "  that 
thief  of  a  cat  '11  be  the  ruin  of  me  !  Steals 
all  our  fish  —  steals  all  our  liver  —  won't 
have  her  about  the  yard  —  I  '11  kill  her  !  I  '11 
kill  her  !  Won't  have  her  stealing  here.  — 
Tell  Dobson  to  keep  his  cats  at  home.  Drive 
her  away  !  'scat  her  away  —  won't  have  her 
stealing  here  !  Creation  !" 

Here  the  old  miser  rolled  up  his  eyes  and 
gave  a  most  rueful  groan  as  he  thought  of 
the  alarming  audacity  of  cats  and  the  irreco- 
verable loss  of  his  tom-cod.  Then  shewing 
me  to  his  wife,  his  features  relaxed  a  little, 
and  he  exclaimed  in  a  tone  of  great  satisfac- 
tion, "  Nice  broomstick  ;  nice  broomstick  ; 
take  care  on't,  take  care  on't  —  come  in  course 
by  and  bye."  Then  depositing  me  very 
carefully  in  a  corner,  he  disburthened  himself 
of  the  trumpery  he  had  picked  up,  launching 
out  into  praises  of  every  article,  and  packing 
them  away  with  heaps  already  collected.  Af- 
ter which  he  crept  off  to  bed,  taking  care  to 
put  out  the  light  and  hide  the  candle,  that 
there  might  be  no  further  extravagant  con- 
sumption of  tallow. 

It  would  have  been  worth  any  miser's 
money   to    see   the  domestic  economy  of  my 

He    was    a    saving 


BIOGRAPHY  OF  A  BROOMSTICK.      53 

bunks,  that  had  made  his  own  fortune  and 
knew  what  money  was  worth.  He  began 
life  with  a  peck  of  apples  and  three  quarts  of 
vinegar,  which  served  him  to  set  up  what  he 
called  a  wine  cellar  in  Ann  Street.  Here  he 
drudged  for  some  years,  and  by  looking  out 
for  the  main  chance,  doing  here  a  little  and 
there  a  little,  and  losing  no  means  of  turning 
a  penny,  he  contrived  by  hook  and  by  crook, 
to  emerge  into  State  Street,  where  he  realized 
his  hundred  thousand,  by  practices  which 
need  not  be  explained  to  those  who  know  the 
necessities  of  men  in  business  who  have  notes 
to  pay.  No  man  ever  had  a  greater  horror 
of  parting  with  his  money.  His  house  looked 
like  the  domain  of  famine,  though  he  was 
always  talking  of  living  comfortably.  To 
do  him  justice,  his  family  enjoyed  all  the 
comforts  which  lie  within  the  reach  of  those 
who  are  debarred  the  use  of  fire,  lights  and 
provisions.  His  back-logs  were  always  soak- 
ed in  water,  and  the  candle  ends  were  care- 
fully locked  up  for  fear  they  should  be  eaten. 

It  is  hardly  necessary  to  particularize  the 
daily  events  of  my  life  while  I  staid  in  this 
same  kitchen.  I  saw  nobody  save  the  old 
miser,  his  wife  and  son.  They  lived  for  the 
most  part,  upon  tom-cods  fried  in  water,  with 
5  * 


54  BIOGRAPHY   OF  A   BROOMSTICK. 

now  and  then  a  tid-bit  in  the  shape  of  a  scrap 
of  meat,  bought  a  good  pennyworth  in  the 
afternoon  of  a  hot  day,  when  rapidly  becom- 
ing an  unsaleable  commodity.  Cabbage- 
leaves  and  turnip-tops  slily  filched  from  carts 
and  stalls,  supplied  greens  free  of  cost,  and 
sometimes  a  stray  carrot  or  a  vagabond  po- 
tato found  its  way  into  his  pocket,  which 
gave  an  additional  luxury  to  the  dinner  table. 
Never  was  such  a  lonely,  dismal  place  for  a 
kitchen  as  ours.  Rats  there  were  none  ;  no- 
body had  ever  heard  of  such  things  on  our 
premises.  Three  flies  came  in  at  the  window 
one  summer  afternoon,  and  were  found  dead 
a  week  afterwards,  —  doubtless  from  starva- 
tion. Some  tradition  existed  of  a  spit  and  a 
tin  kitchen,  but  it  had  grown  faint  through 
lapse  of  years,  and  nothing  was  known  of 
them  with  certainty.  The  old  miser's  clothes 
never  wore  out,  though  always  threadbare  ; 
they'  were  constantly  receiving  additions  from 
shreds  and  patches  picked  up  in  his  nightly 
wanderings,  and  grew  rather  thick  than  thin 
from  age.  He  had  an  old  plush  waistcoat, 
all  rusty  and  ragged,  which  he  called  his 
u  tax  waistcoat,"  because  he  wore  it  regularly 
once  a  year,  when  he  visited  the  Assessors,  to 
complain    of    his   over-taxation,    hoping    that 


BIOGRAPHY    OF    A    BROOMSTICK.  55 

such  "looped  and  window'd  wretchedness" 
as  the  venerable  tatters  of  this  garment  displayed, 
might  melt  the  flinty  hearts  of  Samuel  Norwood, 
Henry  Bass  and  Thomas  Jackson,  —  "  albeit 
unused  to  the  melting  mood" — into  a  more 
moderate  estimation  of  his  real  and  personal 
estate.  But  it  does  not  appear  that  this  inge- 
nious manoeuvre  ever  succeeded. 

I  stood  undisturbed  in  a  corner  of  the  kitch- 
en for  some  weeks,  as  it  may  readily  be 
supposed  there  was  very  little  use  for  my  ser- 
vices in  a  house  where  no  article  of  furniture 
was  put  into  unnecessary  wear.  The  doors 
were  always  shut  to  keep  out  visitors,  and  the 
windows  were  shut  to  keep  out  cats.  But 
one  afternoon  Old  Gripps  had  made  a  mag- 
nificent purchase  of  an  eel  for  his  dinner  the 
next  day  ;  it  hung  in  the  chimney  corner,  and 
the  window,  by  accident,  was  open.  The  cat 
was  prowling  about  the  yard,  and  discovered 
by  the  scent  that  the  miser's  kitchen  actu- 
ally contained  something  to  eat.  Nobody  was 
stirring  upon  the  premises,  and  the  cat  ven- 
tured to  thrust  her  head  in  at  the  window  ;  not 
a  soul  was  to  be  seen  in  the  kitchen,  the  eel  was 
in  plain  sight,  and  could  be  reached  by  a  smart 
jump. 


56  BIOGRAPHY    OF   A    BROOMSTICK. 

A  whisker  first  and  then  a  claw, 

With  many  an  ardent  wish. 
She  stretched  in  vain  to  reach  the  prize, 
What  starving  throat  can  food  despise  ? 

What  cat  's  averse  to  fish  ? 

No  sooner  thought  than  done  :  she  bound- 
ed into  the  room,  made  a  snap  at  the  eel, 
and  was  in  the  act  of  retreating  with  the 
prize,  when  the  old  miser  opened  the  door. 
"  Cre-ation  !  "  he  exclaimed,  running  to  the 
window  and  clapping  it  down  to  cut  off  the 
cat's  retreat.  "  Thief  of  a  cat !  I  '11  crack 
your  bones  for  you  !  Stop  there  !  Stop  there  ! 
whisht!  'scat!  'scat!  oh!  you  thief!"  At 
the  same  time  snatching  me  from  the  corner 
he  began  to  lay  about  him  like  mad.  The 
cat  finding  her  retreat  by  the  window  cut  off, 
made  a  bolt  through  the  door  into  the  entry, 
holding  fast  by  the  eel  in  her  escape.  The 
miser  pursued  her,  banging  the  floor  right  and 
left  with  his  broomstick,  and  exclaiming  in 
a  great  rage,  tl  Cre-ation  !  Oh  you  thief  !  I'll 
crack  your  bones  !  Thief  !  thief  !  thief  ! 
'scat !  'scat  !  stop  there  !  stop  there  !  whisht  ! 
siss  !  siss  !  cahah  !  cahah  !  whisht  !  whisht  ! 
drop  that  eel  !  drop  that  eel !  caa  !  caa  !  caa  ! 
drop  that  eel,  I  say  !"  But  the  cat  w7as  a 
veteran  marauder,  and  held  fast  by  the  eel, 
scampering  hither  and   thither   across   the   en- 


BIOGRAPHY   OF  A  BROOMSTICK.  57 

try,  determined  to  save  her  hide  and  bacon 
too  if  possible  ;  but  finding  all  egress  by  the 
door  prohibited,  she  bounced  up  the  stairs. 
The  old  miser  followed  her,  striking  short  of 
the  end  of  her  tail  at  every  step,  and  bawling, 
"  Stop  that  cat  !  stop  that  cat  !  a  thief !  a 
thief !  caa  !  caa !  drop  that  eel  !  drop  that 
eel,  I  say  !  "  In  this  manner  he  chased  her 
into  the  garret,  where  she  bolted  through  a 
broken  square  in  the  window,  and  both  eel  and 
cat  were  lost  to  all  pursuit. 

The  unfortunate  miser  stood  astounded  at 
this  unexpected  escape.  The  broomstick 
dropped  from  his  hand,  and  he  remained 
transfixed,  with  gaping  mouth,  staring  eyes, 
and  the  most  dolorous  contortion  of  visage. 
After  exclaiming  "  Cre-ation  !  "  twenty  times 
over,  he  crept  sorrowfully  down  stairs,  deter- 
mined to  nail  the  kitchen  window  fast  down 
and  prevent  the  repetition  of  such  a  disaster. 
In  the  confusion  of  his  intellects,  caused  by 
this  overwhelming  calamity,  he  quite  forgot 
the  broomstick,  and  I  was  left  on  the  garret 
floor. 

Here  I  should  have  remained  undisturb- 
ed for  a  long  time,  had  the  affairs  of  the  na- 
tion gone  on  prosperously  ;  but  the  great  com- 
mercial catastrophe  which  shook  all  the  United 


53  BIOGRAPHY   OF  A  BROOMSTICK. 

States,  also  shook  me  out  of  the  garret  window: 
—  even  broomsticks  must  suffer  when  empires 
go  to  ruin.  This  strange  event  was  brought 
about  in  the  following  manner. 

Old  Gripps  was  well  rewarded  by  the 
bounty  of  nature  for  his  benevolent  qualities. 
He  was  blessed  with  a  spendthrift,  rantipole 
son,  who  seemed  to  be  sent  into  the  world  for 
the  express  purpose  of  squandering  the  money 
which  the  parsimony  of  his  father  had  so  pain- 
fully acquired.  This  prodigal  disposition  had 
lately  increased  to  an  alarming  extent.  At  first, 
he  had  refused  to  wear  old  clothes  bought  at  the 
rag-fair  of  Brattle  Street  :  next  he  found  fault 
with  his  victuals,  and  presently  wanted  money 
to  spend  !  Nothing  could  check  his  wasteful 
career  but  the  lack  of  cash,  a  commodity  which 
I  need  not  say  was  pretty  securely  guarded  in 
the  house.  He  nevertheless  contrived,  by  va- 
rious manoeuvres,  to  filch  small  sums  now  and 
then,  the  enjoyment  of  which  only  whetted  his 
appetite  for  more.  The  youth,  finding  him- 
self pinched  by  the  niggardly  economy  of  his 
father,  lost  all  scruple  as  to  appropriating 
whatever  cash  he  could  lay  his  hands  on.  The 
father,  knowing  this,  was  anxiously  on  his 
guard,  and  a  very  sharp  game  was  played  be- 
tween them. 


BIOGRAPHY   OF    A    BROOMSTICK.  59 

For  some  time  cash  had  been  scarce  with 
the  young  man  ;  the  miser  had  carefully 
lodged  every  dollar  in  the  bank,  so  that  when 
his  son  came  to  pick  his  pockets  at  night,  he 
seldom  found  above  a  quarter  of  a  dollar  at  a 
time.  But  just  after  the  adventure  of  the 
cat  and  the  eel,  happened  the  great  stoppage 
of  specie  payments.  Now  old  Squaretoes 
chanced,  to  his  great  delectation,  on  the 
morning  of  that  very  day,  to  get  possession 
of  a  large  sum  in  specie,  which,  when  the 
banks  stopped,  he  determined  to  keep  by  him 
and  turn  to  good  account  by  selling  it  at  a 
huge  premium.  He  accordingly  had  it  con- 
veyed home  at  an  hour  when  his  son  was 
absent  ;  and  not  finding  his  own  desk  or 
closet  safe  enough  for  such  a  precious  deposit, 
as  young  Hopeful  could  pick  locks  on  oc- 
casion, he  had  hid  the  strong  box  in  a  sly 
corner  of  the  garret,  where  it  remained  un- 
suspected by  any  one.  After  a  while,  how- 
ever, the  ingenious  youth,  led  by  surmises, 
tracked  his  father  undiscovered  to  the  spot,  and 
got  a  sight  of  the  hidden  treasure. 

My  master,  like  most  other  careful  old 
gentlemen,  made  a  practice  every  night  of 
seeing  the  doors  made  fast,  and  every  body 
safe    in    bed   before  he  retired   to   rest.      The 


60  BIOGRAPHY    OF  A  BROOMSTICK. 

slightest  noise  in  the  night  alarmed  him,  as 
he  always  thought  of  his  gold,  and  dreamed 
of  thieves.  About  eleven  o'clock,  when  the 
whole  house  had  been  for  some  time  in  per- 
fect silence,  I  was  surprised  to  hear  footsteps 
stealthily  approaching,  and  see  the  glimmer 
of  a  light.  Our  young  gentleman  made  his 
appearance,  walking  on  tiptoe,  and  holding 
his  breath.  The  secret  nook  was  explored 
and  the  strong  box  drawn  out.  The  eyes  of 
the  liberal  young  man  sparkled  as  he  felt  the 
weight  of  the  treasure  ;  he  imagined  that  so 
large  a  sum  might  spare  a  part,  and  nothing 
be  missed,  a  hasty  method  of  reasoning  which 
folks  of  his  stamp  are  very  apt  to  fall  into. 
A  handful  of  keys  were  applied  one  after  the 
other  to  the  lock,  but  not  one  of  them  would 
fit.  To  break  the  lock  would  make  a  noise, 
and  the  only  method  left  was  to  force  the  lid 
up  by  a  wedge,  widely  enough  to  abstract 
some  of  the  contents.  Nothing  of  the  kind 
had  been  prepared,  but  as  I  happened  to  lie 
in  sight,  he  seized  me  forthwith,  and  by  the 
help  of  his  penknife,  sharpened  my  small  end 
into  a  wedge.  With  this  instrument  the  lid 
was  raised  an  inch  or  two  and  he  greedily 
thrust  in  his  hand,  but,  woful  to  relate  !  at 
that  moment  I  snapped  short  and  left  him   in 


BIOGRAPHY    OF  A    BROOMSTICK.  61 

the  lurch  !  A  steel  trap  could  not  have  done 
the  thing  more  neatly. 

At  the  noise  made,  by  this  disaster,  and  the 
sudden  scream  which  the  pain  of  his  impris- 
oned wrist  extorted  from  the  luckless  adven- 
turer, the  old  miser  awoke  and  began  to  bawl 
"  Murder  !  fire!  thieves!"  Then  running 
in  all  haste  to  the  scene  of  the  alarm,  he 
beheld  his  darling  son  with  his  hand  in  the 
casket  that  contained  his  beloved  treasure. 
This  sight  roused  him  to  fury.  He  snatched 
me  from  the  floor,  and  bestowed  so  violent  a 
cudgelling  upon  the  back  of  the  delinquent, 
that  his  wife,  who  presently  came  up,  fearing 
the  blows  were  killing  the  young  man,  snatch- 
ed me  from  the  hands  of  her  husband  and 
threwT  me  out  of  the  window. 

How  long  my  young  friend  staid  in  his 
trap  I  never  learned.  For  my  own  part,  I 
found  myself  on  the  roof,  where  I  slid  end- 
wise over  the  eaves,  and  then  shot  diagonally 
into  the  window  of  the  house  opposite.  Now 
in  this  room  sat  a  couple  of  persons  rather 
oddly  situated.  Let  me  take  up  their  story 
a  point  or  two  backward.  A  middle-aged 
old  gentleman  it  was,  with  a  middle-aged 
young  lady,  —  the  reader  understands  me. 
This  middle-aged  old  gentleman  was  a  pre- 
G 


62  BIOGRAPHY   OF  A  BROOMSTICK. 

cise,  fidgetty,  touchy,  ceremonious  personage, 
as  prim  and  old-bachelorish  as  the  primmest 
of  all  old  bachelors,  and  was  paying  his 
addresses  to  the  middle-aged  young  lady,  who 
had  as  little  objection  to  a  husband  as  it  was 
possible  for  a  middle-aged  lady  to  have.  This 
was  a  courting  night  ;  the  courtship  was  not 
so  far  advanced  as  to  have  removed  all  atten- 
tion to  punctilios  between  them,  and  they  sat 
upon  the  sofa  in  an  attitude  as  formal  and 
starched  as  a  couple  of  effigies  in  the  New 
England  Museum.  By  and  by  the  conversa- 
tion began  to  flag,  as  it  is  apt  to  do  on  such 
occasions  :  the  house  was  silent  ;  they  had 
discussed  the  news  and  talked  the  weather 
round  and  round  till  it  would  not  shift  any 
more.  There  was  nothing  more  left  to  talk 
about  ;  pity  that  lovers  could  not  start  a  topic 
sufficiently  animating  to  keep  them  awake, 
but  such  is  the  fact.  The  gentleman  began 
soon  to  yawn,  and  as  yawning,  like  love  or 
the  measles,  is  contagious,  the  lady  began  to 
yawn  too.  What  will  you  have?  —  in  half 
an  hour  they  were  both  fast  asleep  ! 

Now  I  should  have  observed  before,  our 
prim,  precise,  touchy,  fidgetty,  middle-aged  old 
bachelor  had  had  the  misfortune  to  lose  all  his 
hair,  and   wore  a   handsome   scratch  ;  but   this 


BIOGRAPHY   OF  A  BROOMSTICK.  63 

was  known  only  to  himself,  and  he  designed 
to  keep  the  secret,  and  carry  it  with  him  to 
his  grave.  Nothing  gave  him  so  much  anxi- 
ety as  the  apprehension  that  this  might  he 
discovered,  for  he  had  set  his  heart  on  pre- 
serving the  reputation  of  his  youthful  locks. 
He  had  dropped  no  hint,  of  course,  to  the 
lady,  that  in  case  she  pulled  his  hair  for  him, 
something  might  surprise  her,  and  his  pre- 
caution not  to  endanger  such  a  discovery, 
added  not  a  little  to  the  circumspection  of  his 
manners  in  her  company. 

As  this  loving  couple  lay  fast  asleep,  one 
at  each  end  of  the  sofa,  I  burst  in  at  the  win- 
dow, and  came  end  first,  souse  upon  the  old 
bachelor's  nose  !  He  uttered  a  loud  scream 
and  sprang  up,  tossing  his  wig  off  at  a  single 
jerk.  The  lady  awoke  at  the  scream,  and 
started  up  and  screamed  likewise.  The  gen- 
tleman stared  in  astonishment  at  the  lady, 
imagining  it  was  she  who  had  struck  him. 
The  lady  fixed  her  eyes  in  astonishment  and 
terror  upon  the  gentleman,  unable  to  conceive 
the  cause  of  his  exclamation,  his  frightened 
looks,  or  the  sudden  metamorphose  of  his 
head.  The  next  moment  the  gentleman  was 
aware  of  the  loss  of  his  wig  ;  then  surprise, 
astonishment,      mortification,      embarrassment, 


64  BIOGRAPHY    OF  A    BROOMSTICK. 

fright  and  ten  thousand  indescribable  imagin- 
ings came  over  him  in  an  overwhelming 
cloud.  He  stood  as  if  thunderstruck,  without 
the  power  to  utter  a  sylable.  Now  the  lady 
screamed  again  in  good  earnest,  for  she  was 
fully  persuaded  he  was  out  of  his  wits.  Tke 
noise  awoke  everybody  in  the  house,  who 
came  rushing  in  tumult  into  the  room.  The 
sight  of  these  intruders  brought  the  bewilder- 
ed man  a  little  to  his  senses.  He  caught  up 
his  wig,  and  clapping  it  upon  his  head,  the 
wrong  side  before,  rushed  in  speechless  amaze- 
ment and  vexation  from  the  house. 

The  lady,  as  in  duty  bound,  immediately 
fainted  awray  ;  and  when  she  came  to  herself, 
she  shed  with  the  greatest  propriety,  a  con- 
siderable quantity  of  tears.  The  following 
day  was  passed  in  losing  all  appetite  for 
victuals,  and  in  sighing  profoundly.  As  for 
the  gentleman,  he  set  out  upon  a  distant  jour- 
ney without  delay,  and  has  not  yet  return- 
ed. Should  the  sequel  of  the  affair  ever  come 
to  light,  I  shall  certainly  make  it  public,  for  it 
must  interest  all  true  lovers. 

I  have  not  space  to  detail  the  adventures 
that  befell  me  after  this  occurrence  ;  but  I 
continued  to  play  my  part  in  all  sorts  of 
strange   conjunctures.     I  have  paased    through 


BIOGRAPHY    OF    A    BROOMSTICK.  65 

the  hands  of  four  snappish  old  curmudgeons, 
nine  scolding  wives,  three  dogmatical  school- 
masters, and  thirteen  desperate  old  maids,  — 
in  all  of  which  I  did  effectual  service.  I  have 
caused  seventeen  bloody  noses,  twelve  pair  of 
battered  shins,  and  ten  black  and  blue  shoulders  ; 
I  have  banged  twentyseven  very  thick  skulls, 
given  two  dozen  pokes  in  the  ribs,  made  thirteen 
men  and  women  cry  murder  !  broken  off  two 
matches,  and  caused  the  death  of  one  half  of  a 
human  being  in  the  shape  of  a  dandy  with  two 
daubs  of  tallowed  hair  plastered  on  his  temples. 
This  last  exploit  is  not  much,  but  take  them  all 
together,  I  really  think  they  are  something  — 
for  a  broomstick.  Many  a  blockhead  has 
written  his  own  life.     Let  this  be  my  apology. 


The  world,  't  is  true, 


Was  made  for  blockheads.  —  and  for  broomsticks  too. 


ODE  TO  THE  SOUTH  POLE. 


BY    BOANERGES    BURSTALL. 

Stupendous  Pole  !— thou  walking-stick  of  Time  ! 

Thou  giant  flag-staff  in  empyreal  air ! 
Throned  in  Antarctic  solitude  sublime, 

Portentous  mystery  !  what  dost  thou  do  there  ? 

Ly'st  thou  enchain'd  in  that  benighted  sea? 

Sleep'st  thou  in  lullaby  of  whistling  thunders  ? 
O  Pole !  in  frenzy  when  I  think  of  thee, 

I  think  —  I  think  —  unutterable  wonders  ! 

There  dost  thou  sit,  unseen,  untouch'd,  unshaken, 

A  thousand  sea-calves  roar  at  thee  in  vain  ; 
Ten  thousand  bears  in  vain  their  growls  awaken, 
And  thrice  ten  thousand  whales  spout  up  the  foaming  main 

Shouldst  thou,  O  stedfast  Pole !  desert  thy  station, 
New  Zealand's  coasts  would  tremble  at  the  sight, 

The  Hindoo  tawnies  quake  in  consternation, 
And  sable  Hottentots  turn  pale  with  fright. 

Shouldst  thou  break  loose  in  some  stupendous  thaw, 
Leap  to  the  North,  and  kiss  thy  Arctic  brother, 

Then  sea  and  land,  "  in  elemental  war," 
As  poets  say,  would  make  a  "  dreadful  pother." 


ODE    TO    THE    SOUTH    POLE.  67 

Hark !  hear  we  not  the  South  Sea  islands  rushing 
Through  Behring's  Straits  which  vainly  bid  them  stand, 

There  goes  New  Holland,  old  Spitzbergen  crushing, 
Cape  Horn  runs  butting  against  Newfoundland  ! 

I  see  old  Neversink  falling  away, 
And  Bunker  Hill  upset  in  Lake  Champlain, 

I  see  Gibraltar  skate  through  Baffin's  Bay, 
And  Cuba  scouring  o'er  the  State  of  Maine. 

Here,  hu^e  sea-serpents  twist  their  tails  on  high, 
And  shoals  of  frighted  porpoises  are  dashing; 

There  great  leviathans  and  little  fry, 

Penobscot  shad  and  Norway  kraken  splashing. 

Six  waterspouts  stream  up  Wakulla  fountain, 
Thund'ring  from  Pasquotank  to  Tombigbee, 

Rhode  Island  jumps  astride  of  Saddle  Mountain 
And  canters  down  the  Falls  of  Genesee  ! 

The  Blue  Ridge  tumbles  o'er  the  western  prairie, 
And  pounds  the  buffaloes  with  desperate  slaughter; 

Now  strortg  Madeira  dashes  Grand  Canary, 
And  now  up  hill,  good  Lord  !  runs  Taunton  water ! 

Behold  Bermuda  burst  his  rocky  tether, 

And  rush  upon  Cape  Cod  in  roaring  war! 
And  there  the  cities  all  go  smash  together, 

Boston  and  Paris,  Bungtown  and  Bangor! 

The  moon  blows  up,  the  fix'd  stars  run  away, 

Earth,  sun  and  comets  into  chaos  swing ! 
'T  is  done  !  the  skies  come  tumbling  down  !  —  But  stay  — 

It  is  not  done,  because  there  's  no  such  thing. 

No  !  mortal  sight  is  happily  a  stranger 
To  all  the  horrors  of  the  astounding  scene  ; 

Fate  has  look'd  out  in  time  to  spy  the  danger, 
And  placed  the  equinoxial  line  between. 


68  ODE    TO    THE    SOUTH    POLE. 

While  stand  the  mountains,  the  South  Pole  will  stand. 
When  fall  the  mountains,  the  South  Pole  will  fall, 

New  Holland,  Java  and  Van  Dieman's  Land, 
And  Owhyhee  and  South  Sea  Islands  all. 

Then  fare  thee  well,  dread  Pole,  the  very  notion, 
Curdles  my  blood  with  horrifying  chill. 

Don't  think  of  such  tremendous  locomotion. 
But  fare  thee  well.  South  Pole,  and  stand  stock-still! 


THE  AGE  OF  WONDERS. 


1  am  afraid  this  great  lubber,  the  world,  will  prove  a  cockney. 

Twelfth  Night. 


My  neighbor  over  the  way,  Colonel  Swal- 
lowmore,  thinks  himself  born  in  the  age  of 
wonders  : — and  no  wonder  he  thinks  so,  for 
he  reads  the  newspapers  and  believes  them  ! 
It  is  astonishing  how  gravely  the  Colonel 
gulps  down  every  crude  lump  of  monstrous 
fudge  the  papers  contain.  Sea-serpents, 
crook-necked  squashes,  consumption  cured, 
talking  pigs,  and  three-legged  cats,  are  nothing 
to  an  appetite  like  his.  He  believes  election- 
eering speeches  and  predictions  of  political 
quidnuncs.  All  is  fish  that  comes  to  his  net. 
u  These  are  times  !  Mr  Titterwell,  these  are 
times  indeed  !  "  says  he  to  me,  with  a  most 
rueful  visage,  as  he  lays  down  the  newspa- 
per —  cc  What  are  we  coming  to  !  People  have 
got  to  such  a  pass  !  Something  is  certainly 
going  to  happen  before  long.  I  'm  really, 
really  frightened  to  think   of  it.     There  never 


70  THE    AGE    OF    WONDERS. 

were  such  doings  in  my  day.  Positively 
I  Ve  got  so  now  that  I  an't  surprised  at  any 
thing  !  "  —  And  so  he  shakes  his  head,  hitches 
up  his  breeches,  sticks  his  spectacles  higher 
up  his  nose,  and  reads  the  wonders  of  the  day 
over  again. 

Twentyeight  several  times  has  this  country 
been  irretrievably  ruined  since  I  knew  the 
Colonel.  Seven  times  has  the  world  come 
quite  to  an  end.  Nineteen  times  have  we 
had  the  hardest  winter  ever  known  within 
the  memory  of  the  oldest  inhabitant.  Twenty- 
one  times  there  never  was  seen  such  a  back- 
ward spring.  Fortyseven  times  the  approach- 
ing session  of  Congress  has  been  one  of  un- 
common interest  ;  and  thirteen  thousand  nine 
hundred  and  sixtysix  times  has  death  snatch- 
ed away  the  best  man  upon  earth,  leaving 
mortals  inconsolable  and  society  with  an 
immense  void.  The  mental  agitations  he 
has  undergone  in  pondering  upon  the  "  won- 
derful wonders  "  that  spring  up  as  plenty  as 
grasshoppers  in  this  wonderful  age,  are  not 
to  be  described  ;  for  the  Colonel  takes  an  im- 
mense interest  in  public  affairs,  and  cannot 
see  the  universe  go  to  ruin  about  his  ears 
without  pangs  of  sympathy.  Whatever  mole- 
hill  he    stumbles   upon,    he    makes   a   moun- 


THE  AGE   OF   WONDERS.  71 

tain  of  it.  He  thought  the  Salem  Mill-dam 
absolutely  necessary  to  the  balance  of  power, 
and  was  certain  that  the  bridge  over  Peg's 
Run  was  the  only  means  of  saving  the  nation. 
He  went  to  bed  in  a  great  fright  on  reading 
in  the  paper  that  Emerson's  Spelling-book 
would  overthrow  the  liberties  of  the  country  ; 
and  he  was  struck  with  the  deepest  alarm 
when  he  heard  of  the  feud  that  had  broken 
out  between  the  Houses  of  Correction  and 
Reformation  about  a  cart-load  of  chips.  I 
shall  never  forget  the  anxiety  that  beset  him 
last  summer  when  the  City  Council  could  not 
come  to  a  choice  about  the  Superintendent  of 
Drains.  The  newspapers  were  full  of  the 
affair,  and  the  Colonel,  I  verily  believe,  would 
have  worried  himself  into  a  nervous  fever  had 
this  alarming  schism  between  the  two  bran- 
ches of  the  city  government  been  carried 
much  farther. 

"  A  strange  affair,  Mr  Titterwell,  a  very 
mysterious  affair, "  said  he.  "  There  are 
some  dark,  under-ground  manoeuvres  going 
on  in  this  matter,  depend  upon  it  ;  and  really 
the  Mayor  and  Aldermen  " here  he  turn- 
ed up  the  whites  of  his  eyes  and  shook  his 
head.  Heaven  only  knows  what  he  thought 
of  those  great  dignitaries.     However,   the  af- 


72  THE  AGE  OF  WONDERS. 

fair  of  the  drains  got  through  without  any 
great  catastrophe  to  folks  above  ground,  that 
ever  I  could  learn,  and  the  Colonel's  conster- 
nation subsided  for  that  time. 

All  the  world  were  going  mad  the  other 
day  about  white  mustard  seed.  "  Pray  Col- 
onel," said  I,  "  what  is  white  mustard  seed 
to  you  or  me  ?  Can't  we  eat  our  bread  and 
butter,  and  sleep  till  six  in  the  morning, 
without  troubling  our  heads  about  white 
mustard  seed  ?  Did  n't  we  fight  the  battles 
of  the  revolution  without  white  mustard  seed  ? 
Did  n't  Samson  carry  off  the  gates  of  Gaza 
without  white  mustard  seed  ?  Did  n't  your 
blessed  old  grandmother  knit  stockings  and 
live  to  the  age  of  ninety  without  white  mus- 
tard seed  ?  Then  what  's  the  use  of  minding 
the  dolts  in  the  newspapers  who  tell  you  that 
white  mustard  seed  is  better  than  meat,  drink 
and  sunshine,  and  that  we  shall  all  die  un- 
timely deaths  unless  we  take  white  mustard 
seed  ?" 

The  Colonel  could  not  understand  it  :  — 
it  was  a  great  mystery  indeed,  —  but  the 
newspapers  wTere  full  of  it,  and  he  was  con- 
vinced white  mustard  seed  had  something  in 
it,  that  would  come  out  in  due  time.  White 
mustard  seed,  however,  has   had   its   day  ;  and 


THE  AGE   OF  WONDERS.  73 

the  Colonel  has  probably  taken  to  saw-dust, 
as  I  heard  him  talk  of  Dr  Graham  last  week. 
But  of  all  mortals  the  Colonel  is  the  most 
prone  to  sympathize  with  the  unfortunate 
public  upon  the  loss  of  great  men.  I  popped 
in  upon  him  the  day  before  yesterday,  and 
found  him  lamenting  a  huge  public  calamity. 
Three  great  men  had  fallen  in  Israel  :  —  an 
eminent  clergyman,  an  eminent  country  re- 
presentative, and  an  eminent  dealer  in  salt 
fish  on  Long  Wharf.  The  Colonel  was  triply 
dolorous  upon  the  matter  ;  society,  business, 
politics,  had  suffered  an  immense  loss,  —  a 
loss  incalculable,  irreparable,  and  so  forth. 
I  assured  the  Colonel  there  was  no  great 
cause  for  apprehension,  for  the  world  was 
pretty  sure  to  turn  round  once  in  twentyfour 
hours,  whether  great  men  died  or  lived. 
"The  fact  is,  Colonel,"  said  I,  "great  men 
may  die  as  fast  as  they  please  for  aught  I 
care.  I  have  never  been  frightened  by  the 
death  of  one  of  them  since  an  adventure  that 
happened  to  me  in  my  ninth  year,  when  I 
lived  in  the  country." 

"  What  is  that  ?"   asked  the  Colonel. 

«  I  '11  tell  you,"  said  I. 

"Ona  certain  day,  —  a  day  never  to  be  for- 
gotten by  me,  news  arrived  in  town  that  the 
7 


74  THE  AGE   OF  WONDERS. 

Governor  was  dead.  No  sovereign  prince, 
pontiff  or  potentate  on  the  face  of  the  earth, 
ever  appeared  so  gigantic  and  formidable  to 
my  childish  eyes,  as  that  harmless  gentleman 
the  Governor  of  Massachusetts.  Imagine  the 
shock  occasioned  by  this  announcement  1 
Straightway  the  bells  began  tolling,  people 
collected  in  groups,  quidnucs  scoured  from 
place  to  place,  gossips  chattered,  children 
gaped  in  dumb  astonishment,  and  old  women 
writh  dismal  faces  ran  about  croaking  c  the 
Governor  is  dead  V  To  me  these  things 
seemed  to  betoken  the  general  wreck  of  na- 
ture, for  how  the  order  of  the  universe  could 
subsist  after  the  death  of  the  Governor,  was 
beyond  my  comprehension.  I  expected  the 
sun  and  moon  to  fall,  the  stars  to  shoot  from 
their  spheres,  and  my  grandfather's  mill-pond 
to  upset.  The  horrible  forebodings  under 
which  I  lay  down  to  sleep  that  night,  are  not 
to  be  described,  and  it  was  a  long  time  ere  I 
could  close  my  eyes.  In  the  morning  I  was 
awakened  by  a  dreadful  rumbling  noise. 
c  The  Governor  is  dead  V  I  exclaimed,  start- 
ing up  in  a  terrible  fright.  The  noise  contin- 
ued :  I  listened,  and  discovered  it  to  be  nothing 
more  than  my  old  grandmother  grinding 
coffee  ! 


THE  AGE  OF    WONDERS.  75 

"  The  effect  of  this  prodigious  anticlimax 
can  hardly  be  imagined  ;  never  in  my  life 
was  I  so  puzzled  and  confounded  as  at  the 
first  moment  of  this  discovery.  'What!' 
said  I  to  myself,  i  is  the  Governor  dead  and 
yet  people  grind  coffee  ?  —  Then  it  seems  we 
are  to  eat  our  breakfast  just  as  if  nothing  had 
happened.  Is  a  great  man  of  no  more  con- 
sequence than  this  ?  '  A  new  ray  of  light 
broke  in  upon  me  ;  I  fell  to  pondering  upon 
the  occurrence,  and  five  minutes'  pondering 
completely  demolished  the  power  supreme 
with  which  many  a  pompous  owl  had  stalked 
through  my  imagination.  From  that  mo- 
ment, governors,  town  clerks,  selectmen,  rep- 
resentatives, justices  of  peace,  and  great  peo- 
ple of  every  degree,  lost  nine  tenths  of  their 
importance  in  my  eyes,  for  I  plainly  saw  the 
world  could  do  without  them. 

"  How  often  in  after  life  have  I  applied  the 
moral  of  this  incident !  How  much  moving 
eloquence  and  dire  denunciation  have  I  pass- 
ed by  with  the  remark  — '  That  is  a  great 
affair,  no  doubt,  but  it  won't  stop  a  coffee- 
mill.'  " 


OUR  SINGING  SCHOOL. 

A    CHATTER    FROM     THE    HISTORY     OF    THE 
TOWN     OF     PIGWACKET. 

My  second  cousin  by  the  mother's  side, 
Benjamin  Blackletter,  A.  M.,  who  was  born 
and  lived  all  his  lifetime  in  the  ancient  town 
of  Pigwacket,  has  compiled,  with  scrupulous 
accuracy,  the  annals  of  that  venerable  town 
in  three  volumes  folio,  which  he  proposes  to 
publish  as  soon  as  he  can  find  a  Boston  book- 
seller who  will  undertake  the  job.  I  hope 
this  will  be  accomplished  before  long,  for 
Pigwacket  is  a  very  interesting  spot,  though 
not  very  widely  known.  It  is  astonishing 
what  important  events  are  going  on  every 
day,  in  odd  corners  of  this  country,  which  the 
world  knows  nothing  about.  When  I  read 
over  these  trusty  folios,  which  bear  the  title, 
"  The  General  History  of  the  Town 
of  Pigwacket,  from  its  first  settlement  until 
the  present  day,  comprising  an  authentic  relation 
of  all  its  civily  military,  ecclesiastical^  financial 


OUR   SINGING  SCHOOL.  17 

and  statistical  concerns,  compiled  from  origi- 
nal records,  etc.,"  and  see  the  great  deeds  that 
havre  been  done  in  that  respectable  town,  and 
the  great  men  that  have  figured  therein,  and 
reflect  that  the  fame  thereof,  so  far  from  ex- 
tending to  the  four  corners  of  the  earth,  has 
hardly  penetrated  as  far  as  Boston,  I  heave  a 
sigh  for  mortal  glory,  and  exclaim  in  the 
words  of  Euripides, 

Et  ds  yrjg  en'   ea/aTOig 
Oixodsv  ecpvg   ax  av  yv  loyog  aedev. 

Knowing  that  my  readers  must  be  impa- 
tient for  the  appearance  of  the  three  folios  of 
the  History  of  Pigwacket,  and  as  they  cannot 
be  put  to  press  for  some  months,  I  avail  my- 
self of  this  chance  to  feed  their  curiosity  by 
an  extract,  as  the  cook  at  Camancho's  wedding 
gave  Sancho  a  couple  of  pullets  to  stay  his 
stomach  till  dinner  time. — Take  then  the 
portion  contained  in  Chapter  CLXXXVIII. 
which  begins  as  follows  : 

It  becomes  my  lot  at  this  period  of  the 
narrative,  to  chronicle  an  event  that  formed 
quite  an  epoch  in  the  history  of  the  town,  or 
rather  of  that  part  which  constituted  our 
parish.      This  occurrence  may  not  be  deemed 

by  the  world   quite  so  momentous   as  the  De- 

7# 


78  OUR    SINGING    SCHOOL. 

claration  of  Independence,  or  the  French  re- 
volution, but  the  reader  may  believe  me,  it 
was  a  great  affair  in  our  community.  This 
was  no  less  than  a  mighty  feud  in  church 
matters  about  psalm  singing.  The  whole 
parish  went  by  the  ears  about  it,  and  the 
affair  gave  the  community  such  a  rouse,  that 
many  people  feared  we  should  never  fairly 
recover  the  shock.  The  particulars  were 
these. 

From  time  immemorial  we  had  continued 
to  sing  psalms  at  meeting,  as  became  good 
christians  and  lovers  of  harmony.  But  my 
readers,  accustomed  to  the  improvements  of 
modern  days,  have  need  to  be  informed  that 
up  to  this  period,  our  congregation  had  prac- 
tised this  accomplishment  according  to  that 
old  method  of  psalmody,  known  by  the  desig- 
nation of  uread-a-line-and-sing-a-line."  This 
primitive  practice,  which  had  first  come  into 
use  when  hymn  books  were  scarce,  was  still 
persisted  in,  though  the  necessity  for  its  con- 
tinuance no  longer  existed.  Our  church  mu- 
sic, therefore,  exhibited  the  quaint  and  patri- 
archal alternation  of  recitation  and  melody, 
if  melody  it  might  be  called,  while  some 
towns  in  the  neighborhood  had  adopted  the 
new  fashion,  and   surprised   us  by   the  superi- 


OUR    SINGING    SCHOOL.  79 

ority  of  their  performances  over  the  rude  and 
homely  chants  of  old. 

But  it  was  not  long  ere  the  wish  to  improve 
our  style  of  singing  began  to  show  itself 
among  us.  At  the  first  announcement  of 
such  a  design,  the  piety  of  many  of  the  old 
members  took  the  alarm,  and  the  new  method 
was  denounced  as  heathenish  and  profane. 
The  chief  personage  who  figured  in  the  trou- 
bles, which  arose  upon  this  matter,  was  Dea- 
con Dogskin,  a  man  of  scrupulous  orthodoxy, 
highly  dogmatical  on  theological  points,  and 
a  leader  of  powerful  influence  in  the  church. 
This  dignitary,  whose  office  it  had  been  to 
give  out  the  several  lines  of  the  psalm  as  they 
were  sung,  was  one  of  the  sturdiest  opponents 
of  the  new-fangled  psalmody,  and  set* his  face 
against  the  innovation  with  all  the  zeal  and 
devotion  of  a  primitive  christian.  Unfortu- 
nately for  him,  Deacon  Grizzle,  his  colleague, 
took  the  opposite  side  of  the  question,  exem- 
plifying the  vulgar  saying,  "  Two  of  a  trade 
can  never  agree."  The  discordancy,  to  tell 
the  whole  truth,  between  these  two  worthies 
lay  in  more  interests  than  one,  and  it  is  to  be 
doubted  whether  they  would  have  come  to  a 
rupture  in  church  affairs,  had  not  their  mutual 
animosities   been  quickened  by  certain  tempo- 


80  OUR    SINGING    SCHOOL. 

ral  janglings  ;  for  so  it  happened  that  the  two 
deacons  kept  each  a  grocery  store,  and  nei- 
ther of  them  ever  let  a  chance  slip  of  getting 
away  the  other's  custom.  Sorry  I  am  to  re- 
cord the  frailties  of  two  such  reputahle  person- 
ages, who  looked  upon  themselves  as  burning 
and  shining  lights  in  our  community,  but  I 
am  afraid  the  fact  cannot  be  concealed,  that 
the  petty  bickerings  which  arose  between 
them  on  these  little  matters  of  filthy  lucre, 
were  suffered  to  intrude  within  the  walls  of 
the  sanctuary  and  stir  up  the  flame  of  discord 
in  the  great  psalm-singing  feud  ;  whereby,  as 
our  neighbor  Hopper  Paul  sagely  remarked, 
the  world  may  learn  wisdom,  and  lay  it  down 
as  a  maxim,  that  church  affairs  can  never 
thrive  when  the  deacons  are  grocers. 

Deacon  Grizzle,  therefore,  partly  from  con- 
science and  partly  from  spite,  placed  himself 
at  the  head  of  the  innovators,  and  took  every 
occasion  to  annoy  his  associates  with  all  sorts 
of  ingenious  reasons  why  the  singing  should 
be  performed  without  any  intermixture  of  re- 
citation. The  younger  part  of  the  congrega- 
tion were  chiefly  ranged  under  his  banner, 
but  the  old  people  mustered  strong  on  the  op- 
posite side.  To  hear  the  disputes  that  were 
carried  on  upon  this  point,  and  the  pertinacity 


OUR  SINGING  SCHOOL.  81 

with  which  each  one  maintained  his  opinion, 
an  uninformed  spectator  would  have  imagin- 
ed the  interests  of  the  whole  christian  world 
were  at  stake.  In  truth,  a  great  many  of  the 
good  old  souls  really  looked  upon  the  act  of 
altering  the  mode  of  singing  as  a  departure 
from  the  faith  given  unto  the  saints.  It  was 
a  very  nice  and  difficult  thing  to  come  to  a 
decision  where  all  parties  were  so  hotly  inter- 
ested, but  an  incident  which  fell  out  not  long 
afterward,  contributed  to  hasten  the  revolu- 
tion. 

Deacon  Dogskin,  as  I  have  already  re- 
marked, was  the  individual  on  whom  devolv- 
ed, by  prescriptive  right,  the  duty  of  giving 
out  the  psalm.  The  Deacon  was  in  ail  things 
a  stickler  for  ancient  usages  ;  not  only  was 
he  against  giving  up  a  hair's  breadth  of  the 
old  custom,  but  his  attachment  to  the  antique 
forms  went  so  far  as  to  embrace  all  the  cir- 
cumstances of  immaterial  moment  connected 
with  them.  His  predilection  for  the  old  tone 
of  voice  was  not  to  be  overcome  by  any  en- 
treaty, and  we  continued  to  hear  the  same 
nasal,  snuffling  drawl,  which,  nobody  knows 
how,  he  had  contracted  in  the  early  part  of 
his  deaconship,  although  on  common  occa- 
sions  he    could   speak  well  enough.     But  the 


82  OUR  SINGING   SCHOOL. 

tone  was  a  part  of  his  vocation  ;  long  use  had 
consecrated  it,  and  the  deacon  would  have 
his  way.  His  psalm-book,  too,  by  constant 
use  had  become  to  such  a  degree  thumbed 
and  blurred  and  torn  and  worn,  that  it  was  a 
puzzle  how,  with  his  old  eyes,  he  could  make 
any  thing  of  one  half  the  pages.  However, 
a  new  psalm-book  was  a  thing  he  would 
never  hear  spoken  of,  for,  although  the  thing 
could  not  be  styled  an  innovation,  inasmuch 
as  it  contained  precisely  the  same  collocation 
of  words  and  syllables,  yet  it  was  the  removal 
of  an  old  familiar  object  from  his  sight,  and 
his  faith  seemed  to  be  bound  up  in  the  greasy 
covers  and  dingy  leaves  of  the  volume.  So 
the  deacon  stuck  to  his  old  psalm-book,  and, 
by  the  help  of  his  memory  where  the  letter- 
press failed  him,  he  made  a  shift  to  keep  up 
with  the  singers,  who,  to  tell  the  truth,  were 
not  remarkable  for  the  briskness  of  their  notes, 
and  dealt  more  in  semibreves  than  in  demi-semi- 
quavers. 

But,  on  a  certain  day,  it  happened  that  the 
Deacon,  in  the  performance  of  his  office,  stum- 
bled upon  a  line  which  chanced  to  be  more 
than  usually  thumbed,  and  defied  all  his  at- 
tempts to  puzzle  it  out.  In  vain  he  wiped 
his  spectacles,  brought  the   book  close   to  his 


OUR  SINGING  SCHOOL.  83 

nose,  then  held  it  as  far  off  as  possible,  then 
brought  his  nose  to  the  book,  then  took  it  away 
again,  then  held  it  up  to  the  light,  turned  it 
this  way  and  that,  winked  and  snuffled  and 
hemmed  and  coughed  —  the  page  was  too 
deeply  grimed  by  the  application  of  his  own 
thumb,  to  be  deciphered  by  any  ocular  pow- 
er. The  congregation  were  at  a  dead  stand. 
They  waited  and  waited,  but  the  Deacon 
could  not  give  out  the  line  ;  every  one  stared, 
and  the  greatest  impatience  began  to  be  mani- 
fested. At  last  Elder  Darby,  who  commonly 
took  the  lead  in  singing,  called  out, 

"  What's  the  matter,  Deacon  ?  " 

"  I  can't  read  it,"  replied  the  Deacon  in  a 
dolorous  and  despairing  tone. 

"  Then  spell  it,"  exclaimed  a  voice  from 
the  gallery.  All  eyes  were  turned  that  wTay, 
and  it  was  found  to  proceed  from  Tim  Crack- 
brain,  a  fellow  known  for  his  odd  and  whim- 
sical habits,  and  respecting  whom  nobody 
could  ever  satisfy  himself  wrhether  he  was 
knave,  fool,  or  madman.  The  deacon  was 
astounded,  the  congregation  gaped  and  stared, 
but  there  was  no  more  singing  that  day.  The 
profane  behavior  of  Tim  caused  great  scandal, 
and  he  was  severely  taken  in  hand  by  a  regular 
kirk  session. 


84  OUR   SINGING   SCHOOL. 

This,  however,  was  not  the  whole,  for  it 
was  plainly  to  be  perceived  that  the  old  sys- 
tem had  received  a  severe  blow  in  this  occur- 
rence, as  no  one  could  deny  that  such  an  awk- 
ward affair  could  never  have  happened  in  the 
improved  method  of  psalmody.  The  affair 
was  seized  by  the  advocates  of  improvement 
and  turned  against  their  opponents.  Deacon 
Dogskin  and  his  old  psalm-book  got  into  de- 
cidedly bad  odor  ;  the  result  could  no  longer 
be  doubtful  ;  a  parish  meeting  was  held,  and 
a  resolution  passed  to  abolish  the  old  system 
and  establish  a  singing  school.  In  such  a  man- 
ner departed  this  life,  that  venerable  relic  of  ec- 
clesiastical antiquity,  read-a-line-and-sing-a-line, 
and  we  despatched  our  old  acquaintance  to  the 
tomb  of  oblivion,  unwept,  unhonored,  but  not 
unsung. 

This  event,  like  all  great  revolutions,  did 
not  fail  to  give  sad  umbrage  to  many  in  the 
church  ;  and  as  to  Deacon  Dogskin,  who  had 
fought  as  the  great  champion  of  the  primitive 
system,  he  took  it  in  such  dudgeon  that  he  fell 
into  a  fit  of  the  sullens,  which  resulted  in  a 
determination  to  leave  a  community  where 
his  opinion  and  authority  had  been  so  fla- 
grantly set  at  nought.  Within  two  years, 
therefore,  he   sold  off  his  farm,   settled  all  his 


Hopper  I'di/J ,  <//'<!  his  Choir, 


OUR    SINGING    SCHOOL.  85 

concerns  both  temporal  and  spiritual  in  the 
town,  and  removed  to  a  village  about  fifteen 
miles  distant.  His  ostensible  motive  for  the 
removal  was  his  declining  age,  which  he  de- 
clared to  be  unequal  to  the  cultivation  of  so 
large  a  farm  as  he  possessed  in  our  neighbor- 
hood ;  but  the  true  reason  was  guessed  at  by 
every  one,  as  the  Deacon  could  never  speak 
of  the  singing  school  without  evident  marks 
of  chagrin. 

Be  this  as  it  may,  we  proceeded  to  organize 
the  singing  school  forthwith,  for  it  was  de- 
termined to  do  things  in  style.  First  of  all,  it 
was  necessary  to  find  a  singing  master  who 
was  competent  to  instruct  us  theoretically  in 
the  principles  of  the  art,  and  put  us  to  the  full 
discipline  of  our  powers.  No  one,  of  course, 
thought  of  going  out  of  the  town  for  this,  and 
our  directors  shortly  pitched  upon  a  person- 
age known  to  every  body  by  the  name  of 
Hopper  Paul.  This  man  knew  more  tunes 
than  any  other  person  within  twenty  miles, 
and,  for  aught  we  knew,  more  than  any  other 
man  in  the  world.  He  could  sing  Old  Hun- 
dred, and  Little  Marlborough,  and  Saint  An- 
drews, and  Bray  and  Mear  and  Tanzar  and 
Quercy,  and  at  least  half  a  dozen  others 
whose  names  I  have  forgotten,  so  that  he  was 
looked,  upon  as  a  musical  prodigy. 
8 


86  OUR    SINGING    SCHOOL. 

I  shall  never  forget  Hopper  Paul,  for  both 
the  sounds  and  sights  he  exhibited  were  such 
as  could  hardly  be  called  earthly.  He  was 
about  six  feet  and  a  half  high,  exceedingly 
lank  and  long,  with  a  countenance  which  at 
the  first  sight  would  suggest  to  you  the  idea 
that  he  had  suffered  a  face-quake,  for  the  dif- 
ferent parts  of  his  visage  appeared  to  have 
been  shaken  out  of  their  places  and  never  to 
have  settled  properly  together.  His  mouth 
was  capable  of  such  a  degree  of  dilatation  and 
collapse  and  twisting,  that  it  looked  like  a 
half  a  dozen  pair  of  lips  sewed  into  one.  The 
voice  to  which  this  comely  pair  of  jaws  gave 
utterance  might  have  been  compared  to  the 
lowing  of  a  cow,  or  the  deepest  bass  of  an 
overgrown-  bull-frog,  but  hardly  to  any  sound 
made  by  human  organs. 

Hopper  Paul,  possessing  all  these  accom- 
plishments, was  therefore  chosen  head  singer, 
and  teacher  of  the  school,  which  was  immedi- 
ately set  on  foot.  This  was  a  great  affair  in 
the  eyes  of  all  the  young  persons  of  both  sex- 
es, the  thing  being  the  first  of  that  sort  which 
had  ever  been  heard  of  in  our  parts  ;  for 
though  the  natives  of  the  town  were  a  psalm- 
singing  race,  like  all  genuine  New  Englanders, 
yet  they  had  hitherto  learned  to  sing  much  in 


OUR    SINGING    SCHOOL.  87 

the  same  way  as  they  learned  to  talk,  not  by 
theory,  but  in  the  plainest  way  of  practice, 
each  individual  joining  in  with  the  strains 
that  were  chanted  at  meeting  according  to 
the  best  of  his  judgment.  In  this  method,  as 
the  reader  may  suppose,  they  made  but  a 
blundering  sort  of  melody,  yet  as  the  tunes 
were  few,  and  each  note  drawled  out  to  an 
unconscionable  length,  all  were  more  or  less 
familiar  with  their  parts,  or  if  they  got  into 
the  wrong  key,  had  time  to  change  it  ere  the 
line  was  ended.  But  things  were  now  to  be 
set  on  a  different  footing  ;  great  deeds  were 
to  be  done,  and  each  one  was  anxious  to 
make  a  figure  fn  the  grand  choir.  All  the 
young  people  of  the  parish  were  assembled, 
and  we  began  operations. 

How  we  got  through  our  first  essays,  I 
need  not  say,  except  that  we  made  awkward 
work  enough  of  it.  There  were  a  great  many 
voices  that  seemed  made  for  nothing  but  to 
spoil  all  our  melody  ;  but  what  could  we  do  ? 
All  were  determined  to  learn  to  sing,  and 
Hopper  Paul  was  of  opinion  that  the  bad 
voices  would  grow  mellow  by  practice,  though 
how  he  could  think  so  whenever  he  neard 
his  own,  passes  my  comprehension.  However, 
we  could  all  raise  and  fall  the  notes,  and  that 


88  OUR    SINGING    SCHOOL. 

was  something.  We  met  two  evenings  in 
each  week  during  the  winter,  and  by  the 
beginning  of  spring  we  had  got  so  well  drilled 
in  the  gamut  that  we  began  to  practise  regu- 
lar tunes.  Now  we  breathed  forth  such  me- 
lodies as  I  think  have  seldom  been  heard 
elsewhere ;  but  as  we  had  no  standard  of 
excellence  to  show  us  the  true  character  of 
our  performances,  we  could  never  be  aware 
that  our  music  was  not  equal  to  the  harmony 
of  the  spheres.  It  was  thought  a  peculiar 
excellence  to  sing  through  the  nose,  and  take 
a  good  reasonable  time  to  swell  out  every 
note.  Many  of  us  were  apt  to  get  into  too 
high  a  key,  but  that  was  never  regarded, 
provided  we  made  noise  enough.  In  short, 
after  a  great  deal  more  practice  we  were  pro- 
nounced to  be  thoroughly  skilled  in  the  sci- 
ence, for  our  lungs  had  been  put  to  such  a 
course  of  discipline  that  every  one  of  us  could 
roar  with  a  most  stentorian  grace  ;  and  as  to 
our  commander  in  chief,  no  man  on  earth  ever 
deserved  better  than  he,  the  name  of  Boaner- 
ges, or  Son  of  Thunder. 

It  was  decided,  therefore,  that  on  Fast  day 
next,  we  should  take  the  field  ;  so  we  were 
all  warned  to  prepare  ourselves  to  enter  the 
singing  seats  at  the  meeting   on  that   eventful 


OUR  SINGING  SCHOOL.  89 

day.  Should  I  live  a  thousand  years,  I  shall 
never  forget  it  ;  this  was  to  be  the  first  public 
exhibition  of  our  prowess,  and  we  were  ex- 
horted to  do  our  best.  The  exhortation  was 
unnecessary,  for  we  were  as  ambitious  as  the 
most  zealous  of  our  friends  could  desire,  and 
we  were  especially  careful  in  rehearsing  the 
tunes  before  hand.  The  day  arrived,  and  we 
marched  in  a  body  to  take  possession.  No 
stalwart  knights,  at  a  tournament,  ever  spur- 
red their  chargers  into  the  lists  with  more 
pompous  and  important  feelings  than  we 
entered  the  singing  seats.  The  audience,  of 
course,  were  all  expectation,  and  when  the 
hymn  w7as  given  out,  we  heard  it  with  beat- 
ing hearts. 

It  was  amusing,  however,  in  the  midst  of 
all  our  trepidation,  to  witness  the  counte- 
nance of  Deacon  Dogskin,  who  was  obliged 
to  sit  facing  us  during  the  whole  service. 
His  looks  were  as  sour  and  cynical  as  if  he 
could  have  driven  us  out  of  the  house,  and  he 
never  vouchsafed  to  cast  a  glance  at  us  from 
beginning  to  end  of  the  performance.  There 
was  another  person  who  had  been  a  great 
stickler  for  the  ancient  usage.  This  was  Elder 
Darby,  who  had  been  head  singer  under  the 
Deacon's  administration,  and  looked  upon 
8  * 


90  OUR  SINGING  SCHOOL. 

himself  as  dividing  the  honors  of  that  system 
with  the  Deacon  himself.  He  accordingly 
fought  hard  against  the  innovation,  and  was 
frequently  heard  to  declare  that  the  whole 
platform  of  christian  doctrine  would  be  under- 
mined, if  more  than  one  line  was  suffered  to 
be  sung  at  a  time.  In  fact,  this  personage, 
being  what  is  emphatically  called  a  "  weak 
brother,"  but  full  of  zeal  and  obstinacy,  gave 
us  a  great  deal  more  trouble  than  the  Deacon, 
who  was  not  deficient  in  common  shrewdness, 
notwithstanding  his  oddities.  This  was  a 
bitter  day,  therefore,  to  Elder  Darby,  who  felt 
very  awkward  at  finding  his  occupation  gone, 
and  his  enemies  triumphant  all  in  the  same 
moment. 

But  we  were  now  called  upon  to  sing,  and 
every  eye,  except  those  of  the  Deacon  and  a 
few  others,  was  turned  upward  :  the  hymn 
was  given  out,  Hopper  Paul  brandished  his 
pitch-pipe  and  set  the  tune,  and  we  began 
with  stout  hearts  and  strong  lungs.  Such 
sounds  had  never  been  heard  within  those 
walls  before.  The  windows  rattled,  and  the 
ceiling  shook  with  the  echo,  in  such  a  manner 
that  some  people  thought  the  great  chandelier 
would  have  a  down-come.  Think  of,  the 
united  voices    of  all  the    sturdy,    able-bodied 


OUR  SINGING  SCHOOL.  91 

lads  and  lasses  of  the  parish  pouring  forth  the 
most  uproarious  symphony  of  linked  sweet- 
ness long  drawn  out,  that  their  lungs  could 
furnish,  and  you  will  have  some  faint  idea  of 
our  melodious  intonations.  At  length  we 
came  to  a  verse  in  the  hymn  where  the  words 
chimed  in  with  the  melody  in  such  a  striking 
and  effective  manner  that  the  result  was 
overpowering.     The  verse  ran  thus  :  — 

So  pilgrims  on  the  scorching  sand, 

Beneath  a  burning  sky, 
Long  for  a  cooling  stream  at  hand, 

And  they  must  drink  or  die. 

When  we  struck  one  after  another  into  the 
third  line,  and  trolled  forth  the  reiterations,  * 

Long  for  a  cooling  — 
Long  for  a  cooling  — 
Long  for  a  cooling  —  coo  —  oo  —  ooling, 

we  verily  thought,  one  and  all,  that  we  were 
soaring^  up  —  up  —  upwards  on  the  combined 
euphony  of  the  tune  and  syllables,  into  the 
seventh  heaven  of  harmony.  The  congrega- 
tion were  rapt  into  ecstacies,  and  thought  they 
had  never  heard  music  till  then.  It  was  a 
most  brilliant  triumph  for  us  ;  every  voice,  as 
we  thought,  though  of  course  the  malecontents 
must  be  excepted,  struck  in  with  us,  and 
swelled    the    loud    peal    till    the    walls    rung 


92  OUR  SINGING   SCHOOL. 

again.  But  I  must  not  omit  to  mention  the 
strange  conduct  of  Elder  Darby,  who,  in  the 
midst  of  this  burst  of  enthusiastic  approbation, 
never  relaxed  the  stern  and  sour  severity  of 
his  looks,  but  took  occasion  of  the  first  mo- 
mentary pause  in  the  melody,  to  utter  a  very 
audible  and  disdainful  expression  of  "Chaff! 
chaff!  chaff!  chaff!  chaff!" 

Deacon  Grizzle  was  by  no  means  slow  in 
perceiving  these  manifestations  of  the  Elder's 
mortified  feelings,  and  did  not  fail  to  join  him 
on  his  way  home  from  meeting,  for  the  ex- 
press purpose  of  annoying  him  further  by 
commendations  of  the  performances.  All  he 
could  get  in  reply  was  a  further  exclamation 
of  "  Chaff  !  chaff  !  chaff  \  chaff  !  chaff  !  " 
In  fact  the  Elder's  obstinacy  was  incurable  ; 
he  was  seized  during  the  following  wreek 
with  a  strange  deafness  in  one  of  his  ears, 
and  as  it  happened  very  strangely  too,  to  be 
that  ear  which  was  turned  towards  the  sing- 
ing seats  when  he  sat  in  his  pew,  he  declared 
it  would  be  impossible  to  hear  sufficiently 
well  on  that  side  of  his  head,  to  accompany 
the  singers  :  as  to  altering  his  position,  it  wTas 
not  to  be  thought  of :  he  had  occupied  the 
same  spot  for  forty  years,  and  could  no  more 
be  expected  to  change  his  seat  than  to  change 


OUR  SINGING   SCHOOL.  93 

his  creed.  The  consequence  was,  that  on  the 
day  we  began  singing,  the  Elder  left  off.  From 
that  time  forth,  he  never  heard  the  subject  of 
church  psalmody  alluded  to,  without  a  chop- 
fallen  look,  a  rueful  shake  of  the  head,  a  sad 
lamentation  over  the  decline  of  sound  christian 
doctrine;  and  a  peevish  and  indignant  exclama- 
tion of  "  Chaff  !  chaff!  chaff!  chaff!  chaff!" 


BENONI  BURDOCK. 


A    CHARACTER. 


"  By  my  troth.  Captain,  these  be  very  bitter  words  ! " 

K.  Henry  IV. 

Benoni  Burdock  was  a  bitter  man,  and 
every  thing  about  him  was  bitter.  He  was 
the  beau  ideal,  abstraction,  incarnation  and 
concentration  of  bitterness.  Nothing  dulcet 
entered  into  his  composition,  or  could  be 
made  to  harmonize  with  any  one  of  his  qual- 
ities, physical  or  intellectual.  He  was  born 
on  a  bitter  cold  day,  when  the  skies  were  bit- 
ter, and  every  body  around  him  looked  and 
felt  most  bitterly.  He  came  into  the  world  in 
bitter  times,  and  they  have  been  growing  bit- 
terer ever  since.  It  was  wonderful  to  see  how 
rapidly  the  bitterness  of  his  nature  developed 
itself.  The  first  time  he  tasted  a  sugar-plum 
it  set  him  a  crying  ;  but  a  drop  of  wormwood 
tea  restored  him  to  good  humor  —  that  is, 
such  good  humor  as  a  body  may  show  in  a 
bitter   way.     He    never    laughed,    though    he 


BENONI    BURDOCK.  95 

sometimes  grinned  sullenly  a  bitter  smile. 
Sugar  candy  was  an  abomination  to  him. 
He  was  never  known  to  practise  the  Yankee 
trick  of  licking  molasses  ;  and  the  mention  of 
honey  made  him  sick.  Gingerbread  never 
sat  well  upon  his  stomach  ;  sweatmeats  made 
him  faint  ;  but  he  delighted  in  chewing  rhu- 
barb, flag-root,  gentian,  mundungus  and  quas- 
sia. Fruit  he  would  not  eat,  except  choke- 
pears,  and  he  thought  no  flowers  fit  to  be  smelt 
at  but  rue  and  skunk-cabbage. 

Such  was  the  birth,  infancy  and  youth  of 
Benoni  Burdock,  bitter  —  bitter  —  bitter.  As 
he  advanced  in  life  he  grew  bitterer  still  ;  his 
whole  career  was  a  most  beautiful  develop- 
ment of  bitterness.  He  never  fell  in  love  — 
not  he  ;  that  was  too  sweet  a  passion.  He 
was  not  amorous,  as  Dr  Heavyside  remarked, 
attempting  a  ponderous  pun  ;  he  was  amaris- 
simus.  He  lived  all  alone,  because  the  peo- 
ple about  him  had  sweet  faces.  He  kept  a 
great  snarling  dog,  with  a  most  surly  and 
spiteful  visage.  Benoni  thought  him  a  beau- 
ty, because  he  always  looked  bitterly  even 
when  gnawing  his  bones. 

As  for  Benoni  himself,  his  looks  cannot  be 
expressed  in  language.  If  my  inkstand  held 
all    the    streams    of     Marah    and    Cocytus,   it 


96  BENONl    BURDOCK. 

could  not  supply  a  requisite  for  the  descrip- 
tion of  the  bitterness  of  that  visage  of  his. 
The  sight  of  it  would  make  you  think  of  all 
the  bitter  diseases  that  flesh  is  heir  to,  —  hypo, 
blue-devils,  megrims,  mulligrubs,  northeast- 
ers, notes-to-pay,  and  all  sorts  of  diabolical 
despondencies.  To  take  his  word  for  it,  Be- 
noni  was  never  well  in  his  life  ;  he  always 
had  li  a  terrible  pain  in  the  stomach,"  or  was 
u  in  a  poor  state  of  health,"  or  was  u  falling 
fast,"  or  "  doing  miserably,"  or  was  "  not 
long  for  this  world,"  or  in  some  such  dismal 
way. 

It  is  wonderful  to  see  how  many  bitter 
ways  there  are  of  enjoying  life.  Benoni  Bur- 
dock was  a  perfect  adept  in  this  art  ;  he  ex- 
tracted bitterness  from  every  thing.  He  was 
bitter  habitually,  and  sour  by  way  of  a 
change.  He  drank  hardly  any  thing  but 
Stoughton's  elixir,  and  once  quarrelled  with 
his  father,  because,  instead  of  strong  beer,  he 
gave  him  a  glass  of  Mother  Cob's  mild.  He 
always  had  his  meat  overdone,  to  give  it  a 
sooty  flavor,  and  could  not  endure  any  sauce 
that  did  not  taste  puckery.  As  for  medicine, 
pills  were  too  sweet  for  him  ;  his  favorite  dose 
was  coloquintida,  though  there  were  varia- 
tions   of    bitterness    in    his    humor    when    he 


BENONI    BURDOCK.  97 

could  endure  hiera  picra.  His  recreation 
was  reading  Fast  Day  sermons,  and  his  feli- 
city foul  weather, 

Benoni  was  fond  of  music,  but  it  was  mu- 
sic of  a  particular  sort.  He  delighted  to  hear 
the  filing  of  a  handsaw,  the  yelping  of  a  dog, 
a  cat-concert,  the  singing  of  a  northwester 
through  a  cranny,  the  clack  of  a  scolding 
woman,  the  grinding  of  an  ungreased  wheel 
and  the  roaring  of  a  bull-frog.  He  could 
sing,  after  a  fashion,  and  amused  himself 
with  all  sorts  of  bitter  tunes,  such  as  "  Oh  I 
there  '11  be  mourning/'  —  The  Tongs  and  the 
Bones,  —  Dirge  in  the  Dumps,  and  Billings's 
Jargon.  He  had  a  cage  hanging  up  in  his 
room,  where  he  kept  —  not  a  canary  bird  or 
a  bob  o'link,  but  a  beautiful  little  screech- 
owl.  There  was  also  a  cricket  under  his 
hearth,  and  when  the  owl  screeched,  the 
cricket  squeaked,  the  tea-kettle  sighed,  and  the 
sappy  fore-stick  on  the  fire  set  up  a  groaning, 
then  Benoni  felt  the  full  enjoyment  of  bitter- 
ness. He  would  strike  in  and  sing  his  favor- 
ite air,  "  Let 's  all  be  happy  together  !  " 

Benoni,  too,  was  fond  of  the  fine  arts.  He 
had  all  sorts  of  bitter  looking  portraits  hang- 
ing in  his  room,  such  as  Richard  the  Third, 
Djezzer  Pasha,  Caracalla,  Commodore  Trun- 
9 


98  BENONI    BURDOCK. 

nion,  Ancient  Pistol,  and  Old  Put.  Benoni's 
literature  showed  the  same  exquisite  taste.  He 
learnt  all  sorts  of  bitter  words  and  objurgatory 
ejaculations.  In  philosophy  he  was  a  decided 
cynic,  and  he  knew  Rochefoucault  by  heart. 
He  thought  highly  of  Timon  of  Athens,  and 
was  an  indefatigable  collector  of  Fast  Day 
sermons  ;  but  his  favorite  reading  was  Doctor 
Gall. 

Some  people  may  think  Benoni  was  mise- 
rable in  consequence  of  all  this.  Never  was 
a  greater  mistake.  Benoni  was  happy,  be- 
cause bitterness  was  enjoyment  to  him.  Did 
you  ever  take  notice,  gentle  reader,  of  the 
lives  of  these  grumbling,  bitter  people  ?  They 
are  "  sick  of  the  world,"  they  are  "  tired  of 
existence,"  "  such  things  will  kill  them," 
they  are  " just  going,"  and  all  that  —  and  yet 
how  long-lived  they  are  !  They  survive  all 
their  cheerful  neighbors.  No  misfortunes,  no 
catastrophes,  no  sufferings,  hinder  them  from 
growing  gray  under  all  their  calamities.  The 
wonder  is  they  ever  die  at  all.  Grumbling 
is  the  life  of  them. 

Just  so  with  Benoni  ;  he  was  always  hap- 
piest when  there  was  most  bitterness  about 
him.  The  more  bitter  things  he  could  say, 
the  more  bitter   things  he  could   do,  the  more 


BENONI    BURDOCK.  99 

bitter  things  he  could  hear  of,  the  more  he 
thrived.  He  felt  bitterly  towards  all  the 
world,  though  there  was  no  partiality  in  that, 
for  he  was  quite  as  bitter  towards  himself. 
He  was  a  friend  to  nobody  except  bitter  ene- 
mies. He  was  always  uneasy  during  peace- 
able times,  and  I  verily  believe  he  would 
have  died  long  ago,  had  things  gone  smoothly  ; 
but  there  have  been  such  bitter  doings  of  late 
that  Benoni  has  been  able  to  grumble  on. 

I  have  spoken  of  this  bitter  genius  in  the 
past  tense,  though  I  am  not  certain  that  he 
has  actually  taken  his  leave  of  the  bitterness 
of  this  mundane  state.  The  last  time  I  saw 
him  was  a  few  months  ago,  when  we  took  a 
glass  of  bitters  together,  by  way  of  sweetening 
our  conversation.  It  was  a  raw,  easterly  day 
—  emphatically  bitter  ;  I  knew  such  weather 
would  bring  him  out.  He  was  as  bitter  as 
ever  I  knew  him,  and  gave  a  most  ludicro- 
dolorous  grin  when  I  complimented  him  upon 
the  flourishing  state  of  his  bitter  old  age.  He 
talked  in  the  usual  strain,  for  he  was  always 
bitterly  croaking.  These  were  bitter  hard 
times,  bitter  prospects  for  the  country  ;  things 
were  in  a  bitter  state,  "money  was  tight," 
there  was  a  "  horrible  pressure,"  the  "banks 
wouldn't    discount,  the    country    was    "going 


100  BENONI    BURDOCK. 

to  ruin,"  "  trade  was  overdone,"  there  would 
"bean  awful  crash  before  long,"  —  and  what 
not. 

Such  was  Benoni  Burdock,  and  such  were  his 
rare  virtues.  May  they  be  duly  honored  by  all 
who  are  just  like  him.  If  my  readers  do  not 
recollect  the  identical  man,  they  know  many  of 
his  family,  who,  though  they  cannot  copy  him  in 
full  perfection,  yet  try  very  hard  to  do  it.  Suc- 
cess betide  them,  for  their  own  sake,  though  not 
for  that  of  other  folks.  But  enough  of  Benoni. 
Let  us  sweeten  our  thoughts  by  talking  of  some- 
thing else  ;  though  if  any  body  wishes  for  the 
bitterness  of  his  acquaintance,  I  think  his  lodgings 
may  be  found  at  the  lower  end  of  Wormwood 
Alley, 


DEATH  AND  DOCTOR  SAWDUST. 


Some  folks  there  are  who  never  stiut  to 
Tell  fibs,  and  publish  them  in  print  too  . 
And  various  books  that  I  've  clipp'd  into, 

Plain  truth  have  scouted. 
Ev'n  Gulliver  and  Mendez  Pinto 

I  've  sometimes  doubted. 

And  some  old  dames,  sedate  and  cool, 
Will  stuff"  your  ears  with  stories  full, 
About  a  rooster  and  a  bull, 

With  grave  grimaces. 
And  saintly  rogues  the  long-bow  pull, 

With  solemn  faces. 

And  greybeards  in  three-comer'd  scrapers, 
Have  told  me  tales  by  midnight  tapers, 
Where  tacts  have  cut  suspicious  capers, 

Bouncing,  ail  hollow. 
And  stories  oft  get  in  the  papers 

'That  I  can't  swallow. 

This  is  a  theme  I  'd  fain  rehearse  on, 

For  lying  tales  I  lay  my  curse  on  : 

But  this  which  now  I  hitch  my  verse  on, 

'T  would  be  audacity 
To  disbelieve,  for  1 7m  a  person 

Of  strict  veracity. 

9# 


102        DEATH    AJftJD    DOCTOR    SAWDUST. 

Laat  night  as  I  Efoll'd  out,  remarking 
In  my  cool  way,  young  roysters  larking, 
And  jovial  gallants  gaily  sparking 

In  wild  excursion, 
And  round  odd  corners  slily  sharking, 

Just  for  diversion. 

The  giant  whale  with  watery  spout, 
Had  queuch'd  the  flaming  dog- star  out, 
And  Mars  had  put  the  moon  to  rout, 

Battling  a  wager, 
And  clouds  were  muzzling  close  the  snout 

Of  Ursa  Major. 

And  blasts  from  hyperborean  climes, 
Began  to  ring  northwestern  chimes 
Across  my  teeth,  cold  as  the  rhymes 

Of  temperance  sinners, 
Which  taper  off  at  certain  times, 

Tee-total  dinners. 

And  down  the  street  in  darkness  faring, 
Behold  !  a  bony  spectre  glaring 
Full  in  my  face  !  I  started,  staring, 

And  cried,  "  I  'm  done  ! 
'T  is  Gaffer  Death,  my  doom  preparing, 

"  Sure  as  a  gun!" 

You  '11  guess  he  had  but  thin  attire, 
For  through  his  ribs  as  he  drew  nigher, 
I  saw  with  consternation  dire 

The  sky  gleam  sadder, 
As  plain  as  ever  you  could  spy  a 

Hole  through  a  ladder. 


DEATH    AND    DOCTOR    SAWDUST.  103 

And  then  —  don't  think  I  tell  you  lies  — 
My  feet  refused  from  earth  to  rise, 
Firm  to  the  ground  that  dread  surprise 

And  fright  did  pin  them, 
While  Death  roll'd  up  his  saucer  eyes 

With  nothing  in  them. 

And  face  to  face  a  moment  looking, 
My  brains  in  fiery  fever  cooking, 
And  then  his  lanky  elbow  crooking, 

With  creak  to  scare  ye, 
He  made  a  snatch,  my  knuckles  hooking, 

And  cried,  "  How  fare  ye  ?  n 

Eh  sirs  !  'T  was  not  with  mickle  glee, 

I  hail'd  such  ghostly  company? 

But  sheer  death-struck,  I  could  not  flee, 

So  roar'd  the  faster, 
And  cried  "  Hands  ofT!  for  I  'm,  d'ye  see, 

Meat  for  your  master  ! 

"And,  Goodman  Bones,  don't  think  to  claw 
Your  game  without  some  tug  of  war, 
On  this  highway,  you  know,  the  law 

Forbids  to  forage  : 
So  now,  old  Small-Back,  save  your  paw 

To  stir  your  porridge." 

Then  with  his  fist  in  desperate  slap, 
He  gave  his  long  thigh-bone  a  rap, 
And  twitch'd  his  jaws  into  a  snap 

Of  screeching  laughter, 
And  cried  "  By  Jove  !  you're  not  the  chap 

I  'm  looking  after  ! 


104    DEATH  AND  DOCTOR  SAWDUST. 

"  Ods  zooks  !  this  blundering  beats  the  Dutch  ! 
My  friends  have  multiplied  so  much, 
I  really  have  not  claws  to  clutch, 

Nor  place  to  thrust  'em . 
My  shanks  were  never  tir'd  with  such 

A  run  of  custom. 

"  Perhaps  you  're  wondering  what  I '  m  at. 
Sit  down ;  let 's  have  a  bit  of  chat, 
For  here  's  a  seat  will  suit  us  pat, 

Though 'tis  a  cold  one." 
"  Agreed,"  said  I,  and  tipp'd  my  hat, 

"  Your  servant,  Old  one  !" 

"  But  after  you  "—  said  he.     "  No  no  !" 
And  then  we  both  congeed,and  so 
Sat  down  with  awkward  scrapes  I  trow, 

And  odd  vagaries, 
Just  by  the  door  of  Smith  &  Co. 

Apothecaries. 

•(  7T  is  true,"  I  cried,  "  see  how  we  drop, 
December  coughs  our  windpipes  stop, 
And  dire  pleuretics  deadly  pop 

Our  mortal  gumptions. 
I  '11  warrant  you  've  a  good  fat  crop 

Of  ripe  consumptions!" 

"  You  quite  mistake,"  said  Death,  "  I  hope,  ah  ! 
I  'm  not  quite  such  a  greedy  groper  ; 
But  there  's  a  quacking  interloper. 

That  keeps  me  trotting, 
And  kills  each  day  some  luckless  moper, 

His  brains  besotting. 


DEATH    AND    DOCTOR    SAWDUST.         105 

"  Perhaps  you  've  heard  him  named  by  some- 
Sylvester  Sawdust,  alias  Fum. 
He  's  got  no  brains  ,  not  half  a  crumb, 

Big  as  a  button, 
Yet  many  a  flat  contrives  to  gum 

Out  of  his  mutton. 

"  He  gravely  gulls  the  green-horns  raw, 
Peddling  and  preaching  lentenlaw, 
And  wags  away  his  twaddling  jaw, 

In  crackskull  tattle, 
How  men  should  go  to  munching  straw, 

Like  four-foot  cattle. 

"  And  drench  their  throats  with  vile  milksoppery, 

And  bran  and  corn-cob  lollipoppery, 

And  porridge  draff  and  dish-wash  moppery, 

—  Sawdust,  the  jewel  I 
Stews  out  of  all  such  piddling  sloppery, 

Starvation  gruel . 

M  And  swears  with  blarney  multibrogous, 

If  this  dog's-drench  cachexagogous, 

We  suck  like  calves  and  soundly  cogue  us, 

The  vile  bamboozler ! 
Long  w«  shall  live  as  Tantrabogus, 

And  old  Methusaleh ! 

"  This  nonsense  babbled,  straight  a  host 
Of  dolts  as  brainless  as  a  post, 
Gape  and  believe  the  stupid  boast. 

His  bran  potation 
They  SAvallow  and  give  up  the  ghost 

In  quick  starvation. 


106     DEATH  AND  DOCTOR  SAWDUST. 

"  You  ?]1  recollect  sweet  Peter  Puff, 
That  hearty,  thumping,  fat  old  chuff, 
Wrapp'd  up  in  fleshy  covering  tough, 

No  puny  packet, 
But  something  that  would  stoutly  stuff, 
Old  Falstaff's  jacket. 

"  Who  loved  to  hear  roast  mutton  sizzling, 
And  good  fat  cheer  on  all  sides  mizzling, 
And  no  more  needed  peptic  drizzling 

With  porridge  puddly, 
Than  my  bare  noddle  wants  a  frizzling 

Of  Bogue  and  Dudley. 

"  Sawdust  has  played  his  flesh  the  thief, 
And  pining  under  bran  and  grief, 
His  luckless  bones  are  barr'd  relief, 

With  such  a  veto, 
You  might  as  well  look  out  for  beef 

On  a  moscheto. 

"  Old  Gabriel  Gobbs,  whose  brawny  flanks 
Fill'd  up  three  aldermen's  broad  ranks, 
With  Sawdust's  trash  has  play'd  such  pranks, 

His  vitals  coddling, 
That  now,  full  speed,  on  spindle  shanks, 

To  death  he  's  toddliug. 

"  That  pursy  rogue  too,  Gideon  Grinner, 

I  guess  you  '11  find  a  little  thinner, 

What  do  you  think? — the  crack-brain'd  sinner, 

—  An't  it  amazing  ? 
Won't  touch  a  bit  of  christian  dinner, 

But  goes  a  grazing  1 


DEATH  AND  DOCTOR  SAWDUST.     107 

"  A  half-starved  eel  you  never  skinn'd 

So  lank  and  bare  ;  Good  George  !  I  've  grinn'd 

To  see  fat  ribs  by  Sawdust  thinn'd 

In  such  a  fashion, 
That,  by  the  Lord  !  to  clip  his  wind, 

Would  be  compassion. 

"  And  I  protest,  't  is  quite  concerning, 
To  see  the  flesh  their  bodies  spurning, 
And  pale  their  hatchet  faces  turning, 

As  cotton  towels. 
Ugh!  't  is  a  sight  that  sets  to  yearning 

My  bony  bowels." 

To  hear  death  flame  so  hot  and  blazy, 
Against  his  friend,  quite  made  me  mazy, 
And  thus  in  intellectuals  hazy, 

I  thought  pathetical  — 
"  Old  Father  Long-legs  sure  is  crazy, 

Or  struck  poetical !" 

Then  waggishly  my  numskull  swinging, 
Said  I,  "  Old  Bones,  my  ears  are  ringing 
To  hear  you  thus  sad  curses  stringing, 

With  such  ill  will, 
Against  the  beast  who  's  only  bringing 

Grist  to  your  mill." 

But  here  he  caught  me  in  a  blunder, 

For  straight  he  roar'd  a  laugh  like  thunder, 

And  sneering  cried,  as  I  for  wonder, 

Held  in  my  breath,  — 
"  D'  ye  think  there's  no  compassion  under 

The  ribs  of  Death  1 


108  DEATH  AND  DOCTOR  SAWDUST. 

"  'T  is  not  quite  fair  to  raise  a  cry, 
Should  my  cadaverous  temper  fly 
A  hit  excited  when  I  spy 

Such  wholesale  slaughter. 
Since  ev'n  your  temperance  folks  get  high 

Upon  cold  water.* 

u  To  do  plain  jobs  I  'm  not  unwilling, 
A  fair  knock-down  is  nobly  thrilling, 
And  blood  in  glorious  battle  spilling, 

No  doubt  's  delectable. 
But  this  low,  scurvy  mode  of  killing 

Don't  look  respectable. 

u  There's  no  vile  cheat  when  dropsies  drown 
The  mumps  in  honest  warfare  frown, 
Fever  and  gout  lay  waste  the  town, 

Foul  treachery  scorning. 
And  cholera  never  knocks  you  down 

Without  fair  warning. 

<l  And  plague  in  sounding  terror  comes, 
And  carnage  snaps  her  giant  thumbs 
With  pomp  of  trumpets  and  of  drums  ; 

But  't  would  have  shock'd  her, 
To  gobble  up  the  sneaking  crumbs 

Of  a  quack  doctor ! 


*  Lest  Gaffer  Death  should  lie|[suFpected  or  stretching  the  truth  here, 
we  will  subjoin  a  statement  of  the  fact,  from  the  Boston  '  Temperance 
Journal  and  Total  Abstinence  Gazette'  in  the  description  of  the  din- 
ner at  the  Marltu  ro  House,  July  4th,  1837. 

"Grave  Senators  and  Representatives,  mechanics,  clergymen,  doc- 
tors, farmers,  traders  of  all  sorts,  merchants,  laborers  and  lawyers, 
got  downright  high  over  Rogers's  pure  iced  water." 

This  statement,  of  course,  can  be  relied  upon  ;  and  Dr  Dryasdust 
tells  us  he  has  no  doubt  of  it,  for  the  speeches  reported  on  the  occasion, 
were  such  as  could  not  have  been  uttered  by  sober  men. 


DEATH  AND  DOCTOR  sawdust.    109 

t!  But  Boston  throats  are  wide  enough, 
And  swallow  lumps  so  crude  and  tough. 
My  wits  an't  worth  a  pinch  of  snuff, 

Ev'n  could  I  cool  them, 
To  guess  what  monstrous  crack-brain  stuft 

Will  next  befool  them. 

•'  Tell  them  a  tale  of  three  black  crows. 
Humbug,  as  plain  as  my  ten  toes, 
And  down  the  quacking  nonsense  goes 

Sure  to  besot  one." 
Here  Death  tried  to  turn  up  his  nose, 

But  had  n't  got  one. 

"  You  !d  not  believe  how  many  score 
Have  Sawdust's  quackery  to  deplore, 
Despatch'd  as  dead  as  nail  in  door, 

Each  luckless  wailer. 
They  fall  like  cabbage-heads  before 

A  starving  tailor. 

■'  But  bide  a  wee,  and  vengeance  mickle 
Shall  snap  him  up,  and  I  won't  stickle, 
For  there  's  a  special  rod  in  pickle, 

I'll  soon  be  shaking. 
Then  to  a  T,  his  hide  I  '11  tickle, 

And  no  mistaking  ! 

"  I  '11  not  with  club  his  noddle  crack, 
Nor  lay  lumbago  on  his  back, 
Nor  send  the  colic's  pinching  rack, 

To  spoil  his  quiet. 
But  faith !  I  '11  dose  the  dirty  quack 

With  his  own  diet  ! 

10 


110  DEATH  AND  DOCTOR  SAWDUST. 

"  Some  hundreds  more  I  '11  let  him  slay, 
Then  by  the  heels  the  loon  1 5J1  lay ; 
I  've  nicked  his  obit  to  a  day  ; 

Although,  by  jingo! 
Such  things  I  am  forbid  to  say 

In  earthly  lingo. 

"  I'll  tell  ye  that  in  mystic  glamour." — 

But  just  as  he  began  to  stammer, 

The  Old  South  clock's  portentous  hammer 

Let  fall  a  "  bang-  J" 
His  backbone  rattled  with  the  clamor, 

And  up  he  sprang  — 

Then  disappeared  in  darkness  thick, 
I  clutch'd  amain  my  crabtree  stick, 
And  down  the  street  I  toddled  quick, 

In  tremors  nervous. 
And  so,  from  Sawdust  and  Old  Nick 

The  Lord  preserve  us  I 


THOUGHTS  ON  SEEING  GHOSTS. 

Prithee  !  Look  there  ! 

Macbeth. 

Believing  in  ghosts,  somebody  remarks,  is 
like  the  sea-sickness  when  it  first  comes  on. 
Nobody  will  confess,  but  every  body  has  mis- 
givings. I  must  make  myself  an  exception  ; 
for  I  am  willing  to  confess  both  ghosts  and 
sea-sickness.  Beyond  a  certain  point,  how- 
ever, I  am  not  disposed  to  place  the  two  phe- 
nomena upon  an  equality,  for  I  am  bound  to 
confess  that  I  should  prefer  seeing  twenty 
ghosts  to  being  sea-sick  once.  Ghosts,  indeed, 
are  favorites  with  me  ;  and  having  enjoyed  the 
advantage  of  seeing  a  great  number,  I  can 
speak  with  some  confidence  about  them.  A 
great  many  people  talk  sheer  nonsense  on  the 
subject  ;  indeed,  not  one  in  ten  ever  speaks  of 
a  ghost  in  a  becoming  style.  All  this  has  led 
to  many  mistaken  notions  in  demonology. 
The  long  and  the  short  of  it  is,  that  ghosts 
have  been  very  badly  treated  by  people  in 
general,   and  if  we  do  not   turn    over   a   new 


112  THOUGHTS    ON    SEEING  GHOSTS. 

leaf,  I  am  under  some  apprehensions  that  the 
whole  army  of  sprites  will  discontinue  their 
visits,  in  resentment  of  these  affronts,  so  that 
before  long,  there  will  not  be  a  ghost  to  be  seen 
for  love,  money,  or  murder.  This  catastrophe, 
I  grieve  to  say,  seems  to  be  approaching 
already,  for  ghosts  are  not  half  so  common  as 
they  were  in  the  days  of  my  grandmother. 

Strict  justice,  however,  compels  me  to  say, 
that  the  ghosts  themselves  are  somewhat  to 
blame  in  the  matter,  their  behavior  at  times 
being  a  little  antic  and  anomalous.  There  are 
faults  on  both  sides  ;  which  hoping  I  may  rem- 
edy, I  offer  the  following  suggestions  for  the 
consideration  of  both  parties,  and  let  ghosts  and 
ghost-seers  lay  them  to  heart. 

In  the  first  place,  a  ghost  should  never 
wear  a  night-cap.  Some  readers  may  doubt 
whether  the  thing  has  ever  been  done  ;  but 
the  fact  is  unquestionable  ;  ghosts  in  night- 
caps have  been  seen  by  too  many  credible 
persons  to  allow  of  any  doubt  upon  this  point. 
I  protest,  however,  against  any  such  head- 
dress for  a  member  of  the  tartarean  regions  ; 
it  is  unghostly,  and  ought  to  be  abandoned. 
If  a  ghost  has  any  sense  of  propriety,  let  him 
appear  with  a  bare  sconce  ;  it  is  much  more 
respectable.      Some    indulgence   may   perhaps 


THOUGHTS   ON  SEEING    GHOSTS.  113 

be  claimed  for  a  bald  ghost,  especially  consid- 
ering the  coolness  of  the  night  air.  My  great- 
grandfather, who  was  a  ghost-seer  of  some 
talent,  used  to  recommend  a  wig  ;  but  this,  I 
think,  would  never  be  endured  :  a  ghost  in  a 
wig  !  what  an  unspiritual  costume.  No,  — 
wigs  will  never  do.  A  white  handkerchief 
might  serve  every  purpose,  provided  it  were 
not  tied  on,  for  that  would  look  night-cappish 
again. 

Secondly,  a  ghost  should  never  pull  a  man 
by  the  nose.  Here  again  I  may  be  asked, 
"  Have  ghosts  ever  been  addicted  to  nose- 
pulling?"  I  am  not  certain;  but  the  story 
goes  that  they  have.  I  pronounce  it  wrong 
in  toto  ;  it  is  undignified  and  improper.  If  a 
ghost  wishes  to  give  any  person  so  sensible  a 
token  of  his  presence,  let  him  bestow  a  sound 
bang  upon  his  noddle  :  this  would  be  em- 
phatic and  decisive  ;  there  would  be  no  mis- 
take about  it.  But  as  to  our  noses, — hands 
off !  No  ghost  that  has  any  regard  for  his 
character,  will  clap  his  digits  to  your  olfactory 
projection.  This  suggests  another  thought. 
Ought  a  ghost  to  be  allowed  to  take  snuff? 
!My  aunt  Grizzel  says,  yes,  if  he  can  keep 
from  sneezing.  On  mature  consideration,  I 
say  no,  unless  it  be  the  ghost  of  a  tobacconist. 
10* 


114  THOUGHTS   ON    3EEING  GHOSTS. 

Thirdly,  a  ghost  should  be  nice  in  his  eat- 
ing :  he  should  not  eat  too  much,  nor  of  the 
wrong  dishes.  Some  kinds  of  victuals  are 
unfit  for  a  ghost  to  eat,  and  sound  very  oddly 
when  they  are  mentioned  in  connection  with 
a  visitor  from  the  invisible  world.  An  old 
lady  of  my  acquaintance  knew  a  ghost  that 
came  one  Saturday  night  into  her  kitchen  and 
ate  half  a  dozen  pig's  trotters  and  a  plate  of 
minced  fish.  Another  drank  a  quart  of  sour 
cider,  but  was  observed  to  make  a  horrible 
wry  face  at  it.  These  ghosts  might  plead 
their  appetite,  having  travelled  probably  a 
good  distance  ;  but  I  think  they  ought  to . 
have  gone  further  and  fared  worse.  In  fact, 
I  object  to  eating  altogether  ;  but  if  it  must  be 
done,  let  them  help  themselves  to  light  food, 
and  by  all  means  join  the  Temperance  So- 
ciety. 

Fourthly,  a  ghost,  when  he  appears  in 
metamorphosis,  should  come  in  a  shape  befit- 
ting the  sublimity  of  his  character.  I  knew  a 
ghost  once  that  came  in  the  shape  of  a  tea- 
pot, and  another  that  took  the  form  of  a  leg 
of  mutton.  These  are  unghostly  shapes  ;  for 
what  have  legs  of  mutton  and  tea-pots  to  do 
in  the  invisible  world  ?  My  uncle  Tim  saw 
one  in  the  shape  of  a  militia  colonel :  it  is  a 


THOUGHTS   ON   SEEING  GHOSTS.  115 

pity  that  any  ghost  should  ever  have  made 
such  a  fool  of  himself.  A  justice  of  peace 
once  told  me  that  he  saw  a  ghost  in  the  shape 
of  a  great  jackass  ;  but  it  was  probably  no- 
thing more  than  his  own  shadow. 

Fifthly,  there  are  various  points  of  behavior 
in  ghosts,  to  which  we  may  reasonably  object. 
Ghosts  may  walk  or  run  as  fast  as  they  please, 
but  they  ought  not  to  cut  capers.  Some  may 
say  it  is  difficult  for  them  to  avoid  this,  con- 
sidering how  light  they  are  ;  but  that  is  their 
affair  and  not  ours.  A  ghost,  I  maintain, 
ought  to  behave  with  sobriety,  and  not  play 
fantastic  tricks.  My  aunt  Grizzel,  for  in- 
stance, saw  a  ghost  jump  over  a  broomstick, 
and  another  grinding  coffee  :  now  any  body 
could  do  these  things,  therefore  a  ghost  ought 
not  to  do  them.  A  ghost  was  seen  once,  that 
jumped  over  a  dining-table,  flung  three  som- 
ersets in  the  air,  and  made  sixteen  pirouettes 
on  the  tip  of  his  right  toe,  without  putting 
himself  out  of  breath  :  I  have  no  doubt  this 
was  the  ghost  of  a  Frenchman. 

Sixthly,  besides  the  rules  I  have  laid  down 
on  the  subject  of  night-caps,  ghosts  ought  to 
be  particular  in  their  dress.  Some  ghosts 
dress  so  absurdly  that  they  are  not  worth 
looking    at    when    the    lights    burn    blue,    as 


116  THOUGHTS   ON   SEEING  GHOSTS. 

enough  such  figures  may  be  seen  by  broad 
daylight.  Ghosts  have  been  known  to  wear 
snuff-colored  breeches  !  and  I  have  even 
known  a  ghost  in  cow-hide  boots  !  Is  this  fit 
costume  for  a  hobgoblin  ?  Really,  such 
ghosts  ought  to  be  taught  better.  Habili- 
ments like  these  can  never  inspire  a  ghostly 
dread  in  any  spectator,  even  in  a  church-yard 
by  the  light  of  the  moon  or  when  the  clock 
strikes  midnight  :  they  are  entirely  out  of 
keeping.  I  have  heard  of  a  ghost  that  always 
came  in  a  new  coat,  smartly  buttoned  up, 
and  a  spandy  clean  dickey.  This  must  have 
heen  the  ghost  of  a  tailor.  A  tolerably  good 
color  for  a  ghost  is  black  ;  pepper-and-salt 
will  hardly  do  :  though  I  should  not  have 
much  objection  to  that  sort  of  homespun 
called  thunder-and-lightning.  But,  after  all 
that  can  be  said  in  favor  of  fancy  colors, 
nothing  is  equal  to  a  white  sheet  ;  for,  when 
gracefully  thrown  on,  there  is  nothing  be- 
comes a  ghost  so  well.     ^ 

Seventhly,  ghosts  should  talk  good  Eng- 
lish, and  by  all  means  avoid  poetry,  for  most 
of  the  ghost-rhymes  current  are  as  bad  as  any 
stuff  I  ever  saw  in  the  newspapers.  Ghosts 
ought  to  maintain  a  certain  tone  of  loftiness 
and    dignity    in    their    conversation,    and    not 


THOUGHTS  ON  SEEING  GHOSTS.     117 

gabble  like  so  many  tinkers.  What  could  a 
ghost  be  thinking  of,  who  talked  in  this  man- 
ner :  "  Then  says  the  man  to  the  ghost, 
c  Who  are  you  ?  '  —  'I  'm  the  ghost  of  old 
Slouch,  the  red-nosed  tallow-chandler,'  says 
he.  '  What  do  you  want  here  ?  '  says  the 
man.  '  I  'm  only  haunting  this  soap-barrel,' 
says  the  ghost.  c  I  smell  brimstone,'  says  the 
man.  4  Merely  candle-snuff,'  says  the  ghost. 
4  Know  of  any  money  buried  here  ? '  says 
the  man.  '  Only  five  shillings  in  the  toe  of  a 
stocking,'  says  the  ghost.  '  Well,'  says  the 
man,  l  in  all  my  life,  I  never  heard  a  ghost 
talk  as  you  do,'  "  &c.  &c.  Yet  this  conver- 
sation actually  passed  as  related.  My  great- 
grandmother's  second  cousin  knew  the  man 
perfectly  well,  and  he  was  a  person  of  un- 
doubted veracity.  This  ghost  certainly  did 
not  maintain  the  majesty  of  his  character  : 
and  it  is  a  mark  of  improvement  in  demon- 
ology,  that  ghosts  stand  more  upon  their  digni- 
ty nowadays. 

People  who  are  troubled  with  ghosts  may 
be  anxious  to  know  the  best  means  of  laying 
them,  and  whether  they  ought  to  be  sent  to 
the  infernal  regions,  or  the  Red  Sea.  On  the 
latter  point  I  may  remark  that  I  consider  the 
Red   Sea  the  safest,    because,   if    sen:  to  the 


IIS  THOUGHTS   ON  SEEING  GHOSTS. 

first-mentioned  place,  some  people  might  find 
themselves  under  a  necessity  of  renewing  ac- 
quaintance with  them  another  day.  Some 
ghosts  are  more  difficult  to  lay  than  others. 
The  hardest  of  all  is  the  ghost  of  a  deputy 
sheriff.  When  once  a  man  is  haunted  by 
such  an  apparition,  his  case  is  desperate.  No 
sprite  or  hobgoblin  sticks  closer  to  a  man  than 
this.  He  walks  by  day  as  well  as  by  night, 
and  his  spectral  form  glides  up  and  down 
'change,  as  well  as  the  church-yard.  The 
phantom  stares  you  in  the  face  at  the  turning 
of  every  corner,  and  lucky  will  you  be  if  you 
feel  not  the  magic  influence  of  his  touch, 
which  is  able  to  communicate  a  more  disa- 
greeable shock  than  a  torpedo  or  a  galvanic 
battery.  This  spirit  can  flit  through  key-holes 
and  under  the  crack  of  a  door,  and  if  he  once 
taps  you  on  the  shoulder,  you  are  fixed  by 
enchantment  to  the  spot,  Jhe  only  effectual 
mode  of  laying  the  ghost  is  by  certain  charm- 
ed scraps  of  paper,  all  covered  over  with  ca- 
balistical  figures  and  marks  of  5  —  10  —  20, 
&c,  which  being  waved  in  the  air  before  his 
face,  the  spectre  disappears. 


JOSH  BEANPOLE'S  COURTSHIP. 


As  pigeons  bill,  so  wedlock  would  be  nibbling. 

As  You  Like  It. 


"  Mother  !  "  exclaimed  Josh  Beanpole, 
"  Mother,  I  say,  I  feel  all  over  in  a  twittera- 
tion  like.  Huh  !  huh  !  Who  'd  have  thought 
it  ?  " 

"  What  ails  ye,  Josh  ?  "  asked  the  old  wo- 
man, stopping  her  spinning  wheel  at  this 
exclamation.  u  What  bug  has  bit  you 
now  ?  " 

"  Can't  tell,"  said  Josh,  in  a  drooping,  do- 
lorous tone,  and  hanging  his  head  as  if  he  had 
been  caught  stealing  a  sheep. 

"Can't  tell,"  said  Mrs  Beanpole,  turning 
quite  round,  and  giving  Josh  a  wondering 
stare.       u  Can't   tell  ?     what    does    the    critter 


mean 


? » 


"  Who  'd  ha'  thought  it  ?  "  repeated  Josh, 
fumbling  in  his  pockets,  twisting  round  his 
head  and  rolling  up  his  eyes  in  a  fashion 
most  immensely   sheepish.  —  "  Hannah  Dow- 


120 

ner's  courted  !  "  Here  Josh  shuffled  himself 
awkwardly  into  the  settle  in  the  chimney 
corner,  and  sunk  upon  one  side,  fixing  his 
eyes  with  a  most  ludicro-dismal  squint  upon 
the  lower  extremity  of  a  pot-hook  that  hung 
at  the  end  of  the  crane. 

"  Courted  !  "  exclaimed  Mrs  Beanpole,  not 
exactly  comprehending  the  state  of  her  son's 
intellectuals.  "  Well  —  what's  all  that  when 
it 's  fried  ? 

"  Arter  so  many  pails  of  water  as  I  've 
pumped  for  her,"  said  Josh  in  a  dismal  whine, 
—  u  for  to  go  for  to  let  herself  to  be  courted 
by  another  feller  !  " 

"  Here  's  a  to-do  !  "  ejaculated  the  old 
woman. 

"  It  's  tarnation  all  over  !  "  said  Josh,  be- 
ginning a  bolder  tone  as  he  found  his  mother 
coming  to  an  understanding  of  the  matter. 
u  It  makes  me  crawl  all  over  to  think  on  't. 
Did  n't  I  wait  on  her  three  times  to  singing 
school  ?  Had  n't  I  e'en  a  most  made  up  my 
mind  to  break  the  ice,  and  tell  her  I  should  n't 
wonder  if  I  had  a  sneakin'  notion  arter  some- 
body's Hannah  ?  I  should  ha'  been  reglar 
courting  in  less  than  a  month,  —  and  Peet 
Spinbutton  has  cut  me  out  —  as  slick  as  a 
whistle  !  " 


josh  beanpole's  courtship.  121 

u  Peet  Spinbutton  I  "  said  the  old  woman  — 
"  Well,  I  want  to  know  I  " 

"  Darn  his  eyes  I  "  exclaimed  Josh. 

"  Peet  Spinbutton  [''repeated  Mrs  Bean- 
pole ;  "  what,  the  ensign  of  the  Dogtown 
Blues  ?  —  that  great  lummokin'  feller  1  " 

"  Darn  him  to  darnation  !  "  exclaimed  Josh? 
catching  hold  of  the  toast-iron  as  if  he  meant 
to  lay  about  him — "to  cut  in  afore  me  in 
that  ere  sort  o'  way  I  " 

Mrs  Beanpole  caught  Josh  by  the  arm,  ex- 
claiming, "  Josh  I  Joshy  !  Joshy  !  what  are 
you  about  ?  Peet  Spinbutton  ?  I  don't  be- 
lieve it." 

"  What  !  "  said  Josh,  "  did  n't  I  hear  with 
my  own  ears,  last  night  that  ever  was,  Zeb 
Shute  tell  me  all  about  it  ?  " 

"Zeb  Shute?  —  well,  what  did  Zeb  Shute 
say  ?  » 

u  Why,  says  he  to  me  —  Josh,  says  he> 
what  do  you  think,  says  he  —  I  don't  know, 
no,  n't  I,  says  I. — Tell  you  what,  says  he 
—  that  'ere  Hannah  Downer  —  What  of  Han- 
nah Downer?  says  I — for  I  begun  to  crawl 
all  over. — Tell  ye  what,  says  he  —  she's 
a  whole  team.  —  Ah,  says  I,  she  's  a  whole 
team  and  a  horse  to  let.  — Tell  ye  what,  says 
he,  guess  somebody  has  a  sneakin'  notion  that 
11 


way. —  Shouldn't  wonder,  says  I,  feeling  all 
over  in  a  flustration,  thinkin'  he  meant  me. 
Tell  ye  what,  says  he,  —  guess  Peet  Spinbut- 
ton  and  she  's  pretty  thick  together.  —  How 
you  talk,  says  I.  —  Fact,  says  he.  —  Well,  I 
never,  says  I.  —  Tell  ye  what,  says  he  — 
No,  that  's  all  he  said." 

"Pooh!"  said  the  old  woman,  "  it  's  all 
wind,  Joshy,  it  's  nothing  but  Zeb  Smite's 
nonsense." 

u  Do  you  think  so  ?  "  exclaimed  Josh,  with 
a  stare  of  uncommon  animation,  and  his  mouth 
wide  open. 

"  No  doubt  on  't  Joshy,  my  boy,"  replied 
she,  "  for  Peggy  Downer  was  here  yesterday 
forenoon,  to  borrow  a  cup  of  starch,  and  she 
never  mentioned  the  leastest  word  about  it 
under  the  light  of  the  livin'  sun." 

u  If  I  was  only  sure  of  that  !  "  said  Josh, 
laying  down  the  toast-iron  and  sticking  his 
knuckles  into  his  right  eye. 

"  Joshy,  my  boy,"  said  the  old  woman,  "  I 
don't  believe  Hannah  Downer  ever  gin  Peet 
Spinbutton  the  leastest  encouragement  in  the 
universal  world." 

"  Think  so  ?  "  asked  Josh,  setting  his  el- 
bows on  his  knees,  his  chin  in  his  fists,  and 
fixing   his   eyes  vacantly   downward  in    an   an- 


josh  beanpole's  courtship.    123 

gle  of  fortyfive   degrees,  as  if  in   intense   admi- 
ration of  the  back-log. 

"  I  '11  tell  you  what,  Joshy,"  said  Mrs  Bean- 
pole, in  a  motherly  tone,  "  do  you  just  put  on 
your  go-to-meetin'  suit,  and  go  to  see  Hannah 
this  blessed  night." 

<;Eh!"  exclaimed  Josh,  starting  from  his 
elbows  at  the  astounding  boldness  of  the  sug- 
gestion, and  gazing  straight  up  the  chimney. 
Do  you  think  she  'd  let  me  ?  " 

Nothin'  like  try  in',  Joshy  ;  —  must  be  a 
first  time.  Besides,  the  old  folks  are  going 
to  lecture,  Hannah  '11  be  all  alone  —  hey  ! 
Joshy,  my  boy  !  — Nothin'  like  tryin'." 

"Eh!  eh"  said  Josh,  screwing  himself 
all  up  in  a  heap  and  staring  most  desperately 
at  the  lower  button  of  his  own  waistcoat  — 
for  the  thoughts  of  actually  going  a  courting 
same  over  him  in  a  most  alarming  fashion  ; 
"would  ye  though,  mother?  Hannah's  a 
nice  gal,  but  somehow  or  other  I  feel  plaguy 
queer  about  it." 

"Oh,  that's  quite  naiteral,  Joshy;  when 
you  once  get  a  goin'  it  be  nothin'  at  all." 

"  Higgle,  giggle,  giggle,"  said  Josh,  making 
a  silly,  sputtering  kind  of  laugh — "that's 
the  very  thing  I  'm  afraid  of,  that  'ere  gettin' 
a  goin'  —  Hannah  Downer  is  apt  to  be  tarna- 


cc 


124    josh  beanpole's  courtship. 

tion  smart  sometimes ;  and  I  've  hearn  tell, 
that  courtin'  is  the  hardest  thing  in  the  world 
to  begin,  though  it  goes  on  so  slick  arter- 
wards." 

"Nonsense,  Josh,  you  silly  dough-head; 
it 's  only  saying  two  words,  and  it  all  goes 
as  straight  as  a  turnpike." 

"By  the  hokey  !  "  said  Josh,  rolling  up  his 
eyes  and  giving  a  punch  with  his  fist  in  the 
air,  "  I  've  an  all-fired  mind  to  try  it  though  !  " 

Josh  and  his  mother  held  a  much  longer 
colloquy  upon  the  matter,  the  result  of  which 
was  such  an  augmentation  of  his  courage  for 
the  undertaking,  that  the  courtship  was  ab- 
solutely decided  upon  ;  and  just  after  dark, 
Josh  gave  his  face  a  sound  scrubbing  with 
soap  suds,  drew  forth  his  Sunday  pantaloons, 
which  were  of  the  brightest  cow-color,  and 
after  a  good  deal  of  labor,  succeeded  in  get- 
ting into  them,  his  legs  being  somewhat  of 
the  longest,  and  the  pantaloons  as  tight  as  a 
glove,  so  that  on  seeing  him  fairly  incased,  it 
was  somewhat  of  a  puzzle  to  guess  how  he 
could  ever  get  out  of  them.  A  flaming  red 
waistcoat,  and  a  gray  coat  with  broad  pewter 
buttons,  set  off  his  figure  to  the  greatest  ad- 
vantage, to  say  nothing  of  a  pair  of  bran  new 
cow-hide   shoes.     Then  rubbing  his  long  hair 


with  a  tallow  candle,  and  sprinkling  a  handful 
of  Indian  meal  by  way  of  powder,  he  twisted 
it  behind  with  a  leather  string  into  a  formid- 
able queue,  which  he  drew  so  tight  that  it 
was  with  the  greatest  difficulty  he  could  shut 
his  eyes  ;  but  this  gave  him  but  little  con- 
cern, as  he  was  determined  to  be  wide  awake 
through  the  whole  affair.  Being  all  equipt, 
he  mounted  Old  Blueberry,  and  set  off  at  an 
easy  trot,  which  very  soon  fell  into  a  walk, 
for  the  nearer  Josh  approached  the  dwelling 
of  his  Dulcinea,  the  more  the  thought  of  his 
great  undertaking  overpowered  him. 

Josh  rode  four  times  round  the  house  before 
he  found  courage  to  alight  ;  at  length  he 
made  a  desperate  effort  and  pulled  up  under 
the  lee  side  of  the  barn,  where  he  dismount- 
ed, tied  his  horse,  and  approached  the  house 
with  fear  and  trembling.  At  two  rods  dis- 
tance he  stopped  short.  There  was  a  dead 
silence,  and  he  stood  in  awful  irresolution. 
All  at  once  a  terrible  voice,  close  at  hand, 
caused  him  to  start  with  great  trepidation  :  — 
it  was  nothing  but  a  couple  of  turkeys  who 
had  set  up  a  gobbling  from  their  roost  on  the 
top  of  the  barn.  Josh  looked  up,  and  beheld 
by  the  light  of  the  moon,  the  old  turkey  cosily 
perched  by  the  side  of  his  mate  :  the  sight 
11* 


126        josh  beanpole's  courtship. 

was  overpowering.  "  Ah  !  happy,  happy- 
turkey  !  "  he  mentally  exclaimed,  and  turned 
about  to  proceed  up  the  yard,  but  the  next 
moment  felt  a  violent  cut  across  the  broadest 
part  of  his  nose.  He  started  back  again,  but 
discovered  it  to  be  only  a  clothes-line  which 
he  had  run  against.  —  "  The  course  of  true 
love  never  did  run  smooth."  He  went  fear- 
fully on,  thinking  of  the  connubial  felicities 
of  the  turkey  tribe,  and  the  perils  of  clothes- 
lines, till  he  found  himself  at  the  door,  where 
he  stood  fifteen  minutes  undetermined  what 
to  do  ;  and  if  he  had  not  bethought  himself  of 
the  precaution  of  peeping  in  at  the  window,  it 
is  doubtful  whether  he  would  have  mustered 
the  courage  to  enter.  But  peep  he  did,  and 
spied  Hannah  all  alone  at  her  knitting-work. 
This  sight  emboldened  him,  and  he  bolted  in 
without  knocking. 

What  precise  sort  of  compliments  Josh 
made  use  of  in  introducing  himself,  never 
could  be  discovered,  for  Josh  labored  under 
such  a  confusion  of  the  brain  at  the  time,  that 
he  lost  all  recollection  of  what  passed  till  he 
found  himself  seated  in  a  flag-bottomed  chair 
with  a  most  uncomfortably  deep  hollow  in  it. 
He  looked  up,  and  actually  saw  Hannah  sit- 
ting in  the  chimney  corner  knitting  a  pepper- 
and-salt  stocking. 


127 


"  Quite  industrious  to-night,"  said  Josh. 


"  Don't  know  that,"  replied  Hannah. 

"  Sure  on  't,"  returned  Josh.  "  Guess  now 
you  've  knit  from  four  to  six  pearl  at  the  lowest 
calculation." 

u  Should  n't  wonder,"  replied  Hannah. 

"  Tarnation  !  "  said  Josh,  pretending  to  be 
struck  with  admiration  at  the  exploit,  though  he 
knew  it  was  nothing  to  boast  of. 

"  How  's  your  mother,  Josh  ?  "  asked  Han- 
nah. 

"  Pretty  considerable  smart,  Hannah  ;  how  's 
your  mother  ?  " 

"  So,  so,"  replied  Hannah  ;  and  here  the 
conversation  came  to  a  stand. 

Josh  fumbled  in  his  pockets  and  stuck  his 
legs  out  till  they  reached  nearly  across  the  roomy 
in  hopes  to  think  of  something  more  to  say  'T 
but  in  vain.  He  then  scratched  his  head,  but 
there  appeared  to  be  nothing  in  it.  "Is  't  pos- 
sible," thought  he,  u  that  I  'm  actually  here  a 
courting  ?  "  He  could  hardly  believe  it,  and 
began  to  feel  very  awkward. 

"  I  swow  !  "  he  exclaimed,  opening  his  eyes 
as  wide  as  he  could. 

"  What's  the  matter  ?  "  asked  Hannah,  a  lit- 
tle startled. 

"  Cotch  a  'tarnal  great  musquash  this  fore- 
noon." 


128   josh  beanpole's  courtship. 

e{  Ah  !  "  said  Hannah,  "  how  big  was  it  ?  " 

"  Big  as  all  out-doors  !  n 

"  Lawful  heart  !  "  exclaimed  Hannah. 

Josh  now  felt  a  little  more  at  his  ease,  find- 
ing the  musquash  helped  him  on  so  bravely. 
He  hitched  his  chair  about  seven  feet  at  a  single 
jerk,  nearer  to  Hannah,  and  exclaimed,  "  Tell 
ye  what,  Hannah,  I  'm  all  creation  for  catching 
musquashes." 

"  Well,  I  want  to  know  !  ?'  replied  Hannah. 

Josh  twisted  his  eyes  into  a  squint,  and  gave 
her  a  look  of  melting  tenderness.  Hannah 
perceived  it,  and  did  not  know  whether  to 
laugh  or  be '  scared  ;  so,  to  compromise  the 
matter,  she  pretended  to  be  taken  with  a  fit  of 
coughing.  Josh  felt  his  heart  begin  to  beat, 
and  was  fully  convinced  he  was  courting  or 
something  very  like  it  ;  but  what  to  do  next 
was  the  question.  "  Shall  I  kiss  her  ?  "  thought 
he.  "No,  no,  it  's  a  leetle  too  early  for  that  ; 
but  I  '11  tell  her  I  love  her.1'  At  this  thought 
his  heart  went  bump  !  bump  !  bump  !  harder 
than  ever.  "  Hannah  !  "  he  exclaimed  in  a 
squeaking  voice,  and  stopped  short. 

"Hey  !  Josh,"  said  Hannah. 

"  Hannah,  I I "   he   rolled  up  the 

whites  of  his  eyes,  in  a  most  supplicating  leer, 
but    the   word  stuck  in    his    throat.      Hannah 


12$ 


looked  directly  in  his  face  ;  he  was  in  a  dread- 
ful puzzle  what  to  say,  for  he  was  obliged  to  say 
something.  His  eye  fell  by  accident  on  a  grid- 
iron hanging  in  the  chimney  corner —  u  What 
a  terrible  crack  your  gridiron  's  got  in  it  !  "  ex- 
claimed he. 

"  Poh  !  "  said  Hannah. 

Here  the  conversation  came  again  to  a  dead 
stop,  for  Josh  had  so  exhausted  himself  in 
this  effort  to  break  the  ice,  that  he  was  not 
master  of  his  faculties  for  several  minutes  ; 
and  when  he  came  fairly  to  his  senses,  he  found 
himself  counting  the  tickings  of  an  old  wooden 
clock  that  stood  in  the  corner.  He  counted 
and  counted  till  he  had  numbered  three  hundred 
and  ninetyseven  ticksy  when  he  luckily  heard  a 
cow  lowing  out  of  doors. 

"  Ugh  !  "  said  he,  "  whose  cow  's  that  ?  " 

"  Drummer  Tucker's,"  replied  Hannah. 

c;  Drummer  Tucker's  !  Well,  I  want  to 
know  !  " 

This  reply  suggested  an  idea.  ''Hannah,'7* 
asked  he,  "did  you  ever  see  a  dromedary  ?  '; 

"  No,  — -  did  you,  Josh  ?  " 

"  No,"  returned  Josh,  "  I  never  see  nothinr 
in  my  life  but  a  green  monkey  ;  and  then  I 
was  a' most  skeered  to  death  !  " 

"Lawful  heart!  Mercy's    sake!"  exclaim- 


ed  Hannah,  and  here  the  conversation  came   to 
a  pause  again. 

The  longer  they  sat,  the  more  awkwardly 
Josh  found  himself  situated  ;  he  sat  bolt  up- 
right in  his  chair,  with  his  knees  close  togeth- 
er and  his  head  stooping  forward  in  such  a 
manner  that  his  long  queue  stuck  out  hori- 
zontally behind,  and  his  eyes  stuck  out  hori- 
zontally before,  like  those  of  a  lobster.  For 
several  minutes  he  sat  contemplating  the  han- 
dle of  the  warming-pan  that  hung  by  the  side 
of  the  fireplace  ;  and  then  gradually  elevat- 
ing his  line  of  vision,  came  in  sight  of  a  huge 
crook-necked  squash  lying  on  the  mantel- 
piece. Then  he  looked  at  Hannah,  and  then 
at  the  dish-cloth  in  the  mouth  of  the  oven, 
and  from  the  dish-cloth  made  a  transition 
back  to  the  warming-pan.  "  Courting," 
thought  Josh,  u  is  awful  hard  work."  The 
perspiration  stood  on  his  forehead,  and  his 
eel-skin  queue  pulled  so  tight  that  he  began 
to  fear  the  top  of  his  head  was  coming  off ; 
but  not  a  word  could  he  say.  And  just  at 
that  moment  a  green  stick  of  wood  upon  the 
fire  began  to  sing  in  a  dismal  tone,  "  Que, 
que,  que,  que,  que."  Nothing  frets  the  nerves 
more  when  a  body  is  a  little  fidgetty,  than 
the  singing  and   sputtering  of  a  stick  of  wood. 


JOSH 

Josh  felt  worse  than  ever,  but  the  stick  kept 
on,  que,  que,  que,  quiddle,  de  dee,  que,  que, 
quiddledy  quiddledy  que,  que,  que,  —  Josh 
caught  up  the  tongs  and  gave  the  fire  a  tre- 
mendous poke.  This  exertion  somewhat  re- 
lieved him. 

"  Hannah  !  "  said  he,  hitching  his  chair  a 
yard  nearer. 

"Well,  Josh." 

Now,  thought   Josh,  I    will  tell    her    I    love 

her.  —  "  Hannah,"  said    he   again,   "  I  " 

He  stared  so  wildly  and  made  such  a  horrible 
grimace  that-  Hannah  bounced  from  her  chair. 
"Hannah,  I  say,"  repeated  he  —  but  here 
again  his  courage  failed  him. 

"  What  say,  Josh  ?  " 

"  I I it 's  a  grand  time  for  tur- 
nips," said  Josh.     u  Ugh  !  ugh  !  ugh  !  " 

u  Poh  !"  returned  Hannah,  cc  let  alone  of 
my  apron-string,  you  Josh." 

Josh  sat  in  silence  and  despair  for  some 
time  longer,  growing  more  and  more  nervous 
every  moment.  Presently  the  stick  of  wood 
burst  out  squeaking  again  in  the  most  doleful 
style  imaginable,  Quiddledy,  quiddledy  quee— 
ee—ee—iddledy,  que,  que  quiddledy  quiddledy  que 
que  que-ee-ee-ee-ee-ee  —  Josh  could  not  bear 
it  any  longer,  for  he  verily  believed  his  skull- 


132       josh  beanpole's  courtship. 

bone   was    splitting.      u  I    swaggers  !  "  he   ex- 
claimed, "  this  is  too  bad  !  " 

"What's  the  matter.  Josh  ?"  asked  Han- 
nah in  considerable  alarm. 

u  Suthin'  ails  me,"  said  Josh. 

"  Dear  me  !  "  exclaimed  Hannah,  sha'  n't 
I  get  you  a  mug  of  cider  ?  " 

"  Do,"  replied  Josh,  "  for  I  don't  feel  as  I 
used  to  did." 

Hannah  ran  down  cellar  and  returned  with 
a  quart  mug  of  cider.  Josh  put  it  to  his 
lips  and  took  a  heavy  pull.  It  was  what  the 
farmers  call  hard  cider,  and  Josh  verily  feared 
his  eyes  would  start  out  of  his  head  while  he 
was  drinking  it,  but  after  several  desperate 
gulps  he  succeeded  in  draining  the  mug. 
Then  pulling  a  blue  and  white  check  hand- 
kerchief from  his  pocket,  he  rubbed  his  face 
very  hard,  and  looked  straight  into  the  fire. 

But  in  a  few  minutes  he  found  his  spirits 
wonderfully  rising  ;  he  lifted  up  his  eyes, 
hitched  his  chair  nearer,  sent  Hannah  a  sly 
look,  and  actually  gave  a  loud  giggle.  Han- 
nah giggled  in  reply,  for  giggling,  like  gaping, 
is  contagious.  In  two  minutes  more,  his 
courage  rose  higher  ;  he  threw  one  of  his 
long  legs  across  the  other,  gave  a  grin,  slap- 
ped his  hand  upon  his  knee,  and  exclaimed 
as  bold  as  a  lion, 


133 

u  Hannah,  —  if  a  young  feller  was  for  to 
go  to  offer  for  to  kiss  you,  what  'd  ye  think 
ye  should  do  ?"  Having  uttered  these  words, 
he  stopped  short,  his  mouth  wide  open,  in 
gaping  astonishment  at  his  own  temerity. 

If  Hannah  did  not  blush,  it  was  probably 
owing  to  her  being  at  that  moment  engaged 
in  blowing  the  fire  at  a  desperate  rate  with  an 
enormous  pair  of  broken-winded  bellows 
which  occupation  had  set  her  all  in  a  blowze. 
She  understood  the  hint,  and  replied, 

"  Guess  ye  'd  better  not  try,  Josh." 

Whether  this  was  intended  as  a  warning, 
or  an  invitation,  never  could  be  satisfactorily 
known.  Josh  did  not  stop  to  inquire,  but 
he  thought  it  too  good  a  chance  to  be  lost : 
u  I  '11  kiss  her  !  by  Golly  !  "  he  exclaimed  to 
himself.  He  made  a  bounce  from  his  chair 
and  seized  the  nozzle  of  the  bellows,  which 
Hannah  was  sticking  at  that  moment  under 
a  huge  iron  pot  over  the  fire.  Now,  in  this 
pot  were  apples  a  stewing,  and  so  it  happened 
that  Hannah,  in  the  confusion  occasioned  by 
the  visit  of  Josh,  had  made  a  mistake  and  put 
in  sour  apples  instead  of  sweet  ones  :  sour 
apples  when  cooking,  every  body  knows,  are 
apt  to  explode  like  bomb  shells.  Hannah  had 
been  puffing  at  the  bellows  with  might  and 
12 


134        josh  beanpole's  courtship. 

main,  and  raised  the  heat  to  a  mischievous 
degree;  —  there  was  no  safety-valve  in  the 
pot-lid,  and  just  as  Josh  was  upon  the  point 
of  snatching  a  kiss,  whop  !  the  whole  contents 
of  the  pot  went  off  in  their  faces  ! 

At  the  same  moment  the  door  flew  open, 
and  the  whole  Downer  family  came  in  from 
meeting.  Such  a  sight  as  they  beheld  ! 
There  stood  Josh,  beplastered  with  apple- 
sauce from  head  to  foot,  and  frightened  worse 
than  if  he  had  seen  a  green  monkey.  Han- 
nah made  her  escape,  and  left  Josh  to  explain 
the  catastrophe.  He  rolled  up  his  eyes  in 
utter  dismay.  "  What  is  the  matter  !  "  ex- 
claimed Peggy  Downer.  "Ugh  !  ugh  !  ugh  !  " 
replied  Josh,  and  that  was  all  he  could  say. 
"  Goodness'  sake  !  Josh  Beanpole  !  is  that 
you  ?  "  asked  mother  Downer,  for  Josh  was 
so  beplastered,  beluted  and  transubstantiated 
by  the  apple-sauce  that  she  did  not  at  first  dis- 
cover who  it  was. — "I  d'n  know  —  no  n't  I," 
said  Josh. — "What  a  spot  o'  work!"  ex- 
claimed Peggy.  Josh  looked  down  at  his 
pantaloons —  "  Oh  !  forever  !  "  he  exclaimed, 
"this  beats  the  gineral  trainin'  !  " 

How  matters  were  explained,  and  how 
Josh  got  safe  home,  I  cannot  stop  to  explain. 
As    to    the    final   result   of  the    courtship,  the 


Explosion^  <>/  the- pot  t?f  app/&i 


josh  beanpole's   courtship.        135 

reader  may  as  well  be  informed  that  Josh  had 
too  much  genuine  Yankee  resolution  to  be 
beaten  away  from  his  prize  by  a  broadside  of 
baked  apples.  In  fact,  it  was  but  a  few  months 
afterwards,  that  Deacon  Powderpost,  the  town 
clerk,  was  digging  all  alone  in  the  middle  of  his 
ten-acre  potato  field,  and  spied  Josh  Beanpole 
looming  up  over  the  top  of  the  hill.  Josh 
looked  ali  around  the  horizon,  and  finding  no 
other  living  soul  to  be  seen,  came  scambling 
over  the  potato  bills,  and  got  right  behind  the 
Deacon,  where  in  about  a  quarter  of  an  hour  he 
mustered  courage  sufficient  to  ask  him  to  step 
aside,  as  he  had  a  communication  for  his  private 
ear.  To  make  a  long  story  short,  Josh  and 
Hannah  were  published  the  next  Sunday. 


METAPHYSICS. 

"  Do  you  think  Aristotle  is  right,  when  he  says  that  relatives 
are  related  ?  »  Vicar  of  Wakefield. 

The  old  hermit  of  Prague,  that  never  saw 
pen  and  ink,  very  wittily  said  to  a  niece  of 
King  Gorboduc,  "  that  that  is,  is."  Most 
people  who  possess  the  old  hermit's  happy 
ignorance,  are  of  the  same  opinion  ;  but, 
strange  to  say,  an  acquaintance  with  pen  and 
ink  and  things  of  that  sort,  is  very  apt  to 
reverse  this  opinion.  No  sooner  do  we  be- 
gin -to  study  metaphysics,  than  we  find  how 
egregiously  we  have  been  mistaken,  in  sup- 
posing that  "Master  Parson  is  really  Master 
Parson." 

I,  for  my  part,  have  a  high  opinion  of  me- 
taphysical studies,  and  think  the  science  a 
very  useful  one,  because  it  teaches  people 
what  sheer  nobodies  they  are.  Tl^e  only 
objection"  is,  they  are  not  disposed  to  lay 
this  truth  sufficiently  to  heart,  but  continue 
to  give  themselves  airs,  just  as  if  some-folks 
were  really  some-folks.      Old  Doctor    Sober- 


METAPHYSICS.  137 

sides,  the  minister  of  Pumpkinville,  where  I 
lived  in  my  youth,  was  one  of  the  metaphy- 
sical divines  of  the  old  school,  and  could  cavil 
upon  the  ninth  part  of  a  hair  about  entities 
and  quiddities,  nominalism  and  realism,  free 
will  and  necessity,  with  which  sort  of  learning 
he  used  to  stuff  his  sermons  and  astound 
his  learned  hearers,  the  bumpkins.  They 
never  doubted  that  it  was  all  true,  but  were 
apt  to  say  with  the  old  woman  in  Moliere  : 

II  parle  si  bien  que  je  n'entend  goutte. 

I  remember  a  conversation  that  happened 
at  my  grandfather's,  in  which  the  Doctor  had 
some  difficulty  in  making  his  metaphysics  all 
"as  clear  as  preaching."  There  was  my 
grandfather,  videlicet  my  grandfather  ;  Uncle 
Tim  who  was  the  greatest  hand  at  raising 
onions  in  our  part  of  the  country,  but  ct  not 
knowing  metaphysics,  had  no  notion  of  the 
true  reason  of  his  not  being  sad  ;  "  my  Aunt 
Judy  Keturah  Titterwell,  who  could  knit 
stockings  like  all  possest,  but  could  not  syllo- 
gize ;  Malachi  Muggs,  four  hired  man,  that 
drove  the  oxen,  and  Isaac  Thrasher,  the  dis- 
trict schoolmaster,  who  had  dropped  in  to 
warm  his  fingers  and  get  a  drink  of,  cider. 
Something  was  under  discussion,  i  and  my 
grandfather  could  make  nothing  of  it  ;  but  the 
Doctor  said  it  was  "  metaphysically  true." 
12  *  '  \    '. 


138  METAPHYSICS. 

"  Pray,  Doctor,"  said  Uncle  Tim,  "  tell  me 
something  about  metaphysics  ;  I  have  often 
heard  of  that  science,  but  never  for  my  life 
could  find  out  what  it  was." 

"  Metaphysics,"  said  the  Doctor,  "is  the 
science  of  abstractions." 

"  I  'm  no  wiser  for  that  explanation,"  said 
Uncle  Tim. 

"  It  treats,"  said  the  Doctor,  "  of  matters 
most  profound  and  sublime,  a  little  difficult 
perhaps  for  a  common  intellect  or  an  un- 
schooled capacity  to  fathom,  but  not  the  less 
important,  on  that  account,  to  all  living  be- 
ings." 

"  What  does  it  teach  ?  "  asked  the  school- 
master. 

u  It  is  not  applied  so  much  to  the  operation 
of  teaching,"  answered  the  Doctor,  "  as  to 
that  of  inquiring  ;  and  the  chief  inquiry  is 
whether  things  are,  or  whether  they  are  not.' 

u  I  don't  understand  the  question,"  said 
Uncle    Tim,  taking   the  pipe  out  of  his  mouth. 

"  For  example,  whether  this  earth  on  which 
we  tread,"  said  the  Doctor,  giving  a  heavy 
stamp  on  the  floor,  and  setting  his  foot  slap 
on  the  cat's  tail,  u  whether  this  earth  does 
really  exist,  or  whether  it  does  not  exist." 

u  That  is  a  point  of  considerable  conse- 
quence to  settle,"  said  my  grandfather. 


) 


METAPHYSICS.  139 

4C  Especially,"  added  the  schoolmaster,  "  to 
the  holders  of  real  estate." 

"  Now  the  earth,"  continued  the  Doctor, 
<c  may  exist  "  — 

"  Who  the  dogs  ever  doubted  that  ?"  asked 
Uncle  Tim. 

"  A  great  many  men,"  said  the  Doctor, 
"  and  some  very  learned  ones." 

Uncle  Tim  stared  a  moment,  and  then 
began  to  fill  up  his  pipe,  whistling  the  tune  of 
High  Betty  Martin,  while  the  Doctor  went  on. 
— "  The  earth,  I  say,  may  exist,  although 
Bishop  Berkeley  has  proved  beyond  all  possible 
gainsaying  or  denial,  that  it  does  not  exist. 
The  case  is  clear  ;  the  only  difficulty  is,  to 
know  whether  we  shall  believe  it  or  not." 

"  And  how,"  asked  Uncle  Tim,  "  is  all  the 
to  be  found  out  ?  " 

"  By  digging  down  to  the  first  principles," 
answered  the  Doctor. 

"  Ay,"  interrupted  Malachi,  "there  is 
nothing  equal  to  the  spade  and  pickaxe." 

"  That  is  true,"  said  my  grandfather,  going 
on  in  Malachi's  way,  u  't  is  by  digging  for  the 
foundation  that  we  shall  find  out  whether  the 
world  exists  or  not  ;  for,  if  we  dig  to  the  bot- 
tom of  the  earth  and  find  a  foundation  —  why 
then    we  are    sure    of  it.     But  if  we  find  no 


140  METAPHYSICS. 

foundation,  it  is  clear  that  the  world  stands 
upon  nothing,  or,  in  other  words,  that  it  does 
not  stand  at  all  ;  therefore,  it  stands  to 
reason  "  — 

u  I  beg  your  pardon,"  interrupted  the  Doc- 
tor, u  but  you  totally  mistake  me  ;  I  use  the 
word  digging  metaphorically,  meaning  the 
profoundest  cogitation  and  research  into  the 
nature  of  things.  That  is  the  way  in  which 
we  may  ascertain  whether  things  are  or 
whether  they  are  not." 

"  But  if  a  man  can't  believe  his  eyes,"  said 
Uncle  Tim,  "  what  signifies  talking  about 
it  ?  " 

u  Our  eyes,"  said  the  Doctor,  tc  are  nothing 
at  all  but  the  inlets  of  sensation,  and  when 
we  see  a  thing,  all  we  are  aware  of  is,  that 
we  have  a  sensation  of  it  ;  we  are  not  sure 
that  the  thing  exists.  We  are  sure  of  nothing 
that  we  see  with  our  eyes." 

u  Not  without  spectacles,"  said  aunt  Judy. 

"  Plato,  for  instance,  maintains  that  the 
sensation  of  any  object  is  produced  by  a  per- 
petual succession  of  copies,  images  or  coun- 
terfeits streaming  off  from  the  object  to  the 
organs  of  sensation.  Descartes,  too,  has 
explained  the  matter  upon  the  principle  of 
whirligigs." 


METAPHYSICS.  141 

w  But  does  the  world  exist  ?"  asked  the 
schoolmaster. 

"  A  good  deal  may  be  said  on  both  sides," 
replied  the  Doctor,  "  though  the  ablest  heads 
are  for  non-existence." 

"  In  common  cases,"  said  Uncle  Tim, 
"  those  who  utter  nonsense  are  considered 
blockheads." 

"  But  in  metaphysics,"  said  the  Doctor, 
"  the  case  is  different." 

"Now  all  this  is  hocus  pocus  to  me,"  said 
Aunt  Judy,  suspending  her  knitting  work,  and 
scratching  her  forehead  with  one  of  the  needles. 
"  I  don't  understand  a  bit  more  of  the  business 
than  I  did  at  first." 

"I  '11  be  bound  there  is  many  a  learned 
professor,"  said  Uncle  Tim,  u  could  say  the 
same  after  spinning  a  long  yarn  of  metaphy- 
sics." 

The  Doctor  did  not  admire  this  gibe  at  his 
favorite  science.  "  That  is  as  the  case  may 
be,"  said  he  ;  "  this  thing  or  that  thing  may  be 
dubious,  but  what  then  ?  Doubt  is  the  begin- 
ning of  wisdom." 

"No  doubt  of  that,"  said  my  grandfather, 
beginning  to  poke  the  fire,  "  but  when  a  man 
has  got  through  his  doubting,  what  does  he  be- 
gin to  build  upon  in  the  metaphysical  way  ?  " 


142  METAPHYSICS. 

"  Why,  he   begins  by  taking   something  for 
granted,"  said  the  Doctor. 

"  But  is  that  a  sure  way  of  going  to  work  ?  " 
";Tis  the  only  thing  he  can  do,"  replied 
the  Doctor,  after  a  pause,  and  rubbing  his 
forehead  as  if  h5  was  not  altogether  satisfied 
that  his  foundation  was  a  solid  one.  My 
grandfather  might  have  posed  him  with  another 
question,  but  he  poked  the  fire  and  let  him  go 
on. 

"  Metaphysics,  to  speak  exactly,"  — 
"  Ah,"  interrupted  the  schoolmaster,  "  bring 
it  down  to   vulgar   fractions,   and   then  we  shall 
understand  it." 

"  Tis  the  consideration  of  immateriality,  or 
the  mere  spirit  and  essence  of  things." 

"  Come,  come,"  said  Aunt  Judy,  taking  a 
pinch  of  snuff,  "  now  I  see  into  it." 

"Thus,  man  is  considered,  not  in  his  cor- 
poreality, but  in  his  essence  or  capability  of 
being  ;  for  a  man  metaphysically,  or  to  meta- 
physical purposes,  hath  two  natures,  that  of 
spirituality  and  that  of  corporeity,  which  may  be 
considered  separate." 

"  What  man  ?  "  asked  Uncle  Tim. 
"  Why  any  man  ;  Malachi  there,  for   exam- 
ple, I  may  consider  him  as   Malachi  spiritual  or 
Malachi  corporal." 


METAPHYSICS.  143 

c ;  That  is  true,"  said  Malachi,  "  for  when  I 
was  in  the  militia,  they  made  me  a  sixteenth  cor- 
poral, and  I  carried  grog  to  the  drummer." 

"  That  is  another  affair,"  said  the  Doctor,  in 
continuation,  "  we  speak  of  man  in  his  essence  ; 
we  speak  also  of  the  essence  of  locality,  the 
essence  of  duration  " — 

"And  essence  of  peppermint,"  said  Aunt 
Judy. 

"  Pooh  !"  said  the  Doctor,  u  tUe  essence  I 
mean  is  quite  a  different  concern." 

•'  Something  too  fine  to  be  dribbled  through 
the  worm  of  a  still,"  said  my  grandfather. 

u  Then  I  am  all  in  the  dark  again,"  rejoined 
Aunt  Judy. 

"  By  the  spirit  and  essence  of  things  I  mean 
things  in  the  abstract." 

"  And  what  becomes  of  a  thing  when  it  gets 
into  the  abstract  ?'    tasked  Uncle  Tim. 

"Why,  it  becomes  an  abstraction." 

"  There  we  are  again,"  said  Uncle  Tim  ; 
"  but  what  the  deuce  is  an  abstraction  ?" 

"  It 's  a  thing  that  has  no  matter  ;  that  is,  it 
cannot  be  felt,  seen,  heard,  smelt  or  tasted  ;  it 
has  no  substance  or  solidity  ;  it  is  neither  large 
nor  small,  hot  nor  cold,  long  nor  short." 

"  Then  what  is  the  long  and  short  of  it  ?  " 
asked  the  schoolmaster. 


144  METAPHYSICS, 

"Abstraction,"  replied  the  Doctor. 

"  Suppose,  for  instance,"  said  Malachi,  •*  that 
I  had  a  pitchfork" 

"Ay,"  said  the  Doctor,  "  consider  a  pitch- 
fork in  general ;  that  is,  neither  this  one  nor  that 
one,  nor  any  particular  one,  but  a  pitchfork  or 
pitchforks  divested  of  their  materiality  —  these 
are  things  in  the  abstract." 

"They  are  things  in  the  hay-mow,"  said 
Malachi. 

"  Pray,"  said  Uncle  Tim,  u  have  there  been 
many  such  things  discovered  ?" 

"  Discovered  !"  returned  the  Doctor,  "  why 
all  things,  whether  in  heaven  or  upon  the 
earth,  or  in  the  waters  under  the  earth, 
whether  small  or  great,  visible  or  invisible,, 
animate  or  inanimate  ;  —  whatever  the  eye 
can  see,  or  the  ear  can  hear,  or  the  nose  can 
smell,  or  the  fingers  touch  ;  finally,  whatever 
exists  or  is  imaginable  in  rerum  natura,  past, 
present,  or  to  come,  —  all  may  be  abstrac- 
tions." 

"  Indeed  I  "  said  Uncle  Tim,  "  pray  what  do 
you  make  of  the  abstraction  of  a  red  cow  ?  " 

"•  A  red  cow,''  said  the  Doctor,  "  considered 
metaphysically,  or  as  an  abstraction,  is  an 
animal  possessing  neither  hide  nor  horns, 
bones  nor  flesh,  but  is  the  mere  type,  eidolon, 


METAPHYSICS.  145 

and  fantastical  semblance  of  these  parts  of  a 
quadruped.  It  has  a  shape  without  any  sub- 
stance, and  no  color  at  all,  for  its  redness  is  the 
mere  counterfeit  or  imagination  of  such.  As  it 
lacks  the  positive,  so  is  it  also  deficient  in  the 
accidental  properties  of  all  the  animals  of  its 
tribe,  for  it  has  no  locomotion,  stability,  or  endu- 
rance, neither  goes  to  pasture,  gives  milk,  chews 
the  cud,  nor  performs  any  other  function  of  a 
horned  beast,  but  is  a  mere  creature  of  the 
brain,  begotten  by  a  freak  of  the  fancy,  and 
nourished  by  a  conceit  of  the  imagination." 

"A  dog's  foot!"  exclaimed  Aunt  Judy. 
"  All  the  metaphysics  under  the  sun  wouldn't 
make  a  pound  of  butter." 

«  That  's  a  fact  !  "  said  Uncle  Tim. 


13 


THE  RIME  OF  THE  ANCIENT  PEDLER. 


CANTO     I. 

It  is  an  ancient  pedler-man, 

That  peddleth  pottes  of  tinne  ; 
And  he  stoppeth  Deacon  Edmund  Stokes, 

As  the  meeting  did  beginne. 
"  Now  \\  herefore  dost  thou  stoppe  me  here  ? 

Thou  man  of  muckle  sinne  ! 

"  The  meeting-house  is  open  wide, 

And  the  minister  is  there. 
So  lette  me  goe,  I  must  make  haste, 

Or  I  shall  lose  the  prayer." 

He  holds  him  by  the  button  faste, 

"  Do  n't  give  me  the  slippe  !"  quoth  he. 
Whereat  the  Deacon  hitte  him  a  cuffe, 
And  said,  "  You  rogue  !  get  out  with  youre  stuffe- 
Is  this  the  time  for  a  spree  ?" 

Quoth  the  pedler,  "  Deacon  that  is  n't  faire, 

Don't  aggravate  your  choler, 
You  talk  so  gravelie  about  a  prayer, 

But  you  're  thinking  of  a  dollar." 

And  the  pedlar  bolde  still  kept  faste  holde, 

And  close  to  the  fence  did  hie  him, 
And  bothe  were  sitting  on  a  raile, 
While  hee  beganne  to  tell  his  tale, 
And  the  Deacon's  hearte  for  fear  did  quaile, 

Lest  somebodie  should  spie  him. 


RIME    OF   THE   ANCIENT  PEDLER.         147 

"  The  coaste  was  clear'd,  and  off  I  steer'd, 

Merrilie  I  did  trotte 
O'er  Roxhury  Necke  and  Dedham  roade. 

Lighte  paire  of  heeles,  I  wotle. 

The  sunne  rose  oute  of  Boston  Baye 

Fulle  halfe  an  houre  too  soone ; 
For  I  stole  awaye  before  't  was  daye, 

At  the  setting  of  the  moone." — 
And  here  the  Deacon  scratched  his  heade, 

He  heard  the  loud  psalme-tune. 

The  parson  in  the  pulpitte  stands  ; 

Grave  as  an  owle  is  hee  ; 
Nodding  their  heades  iu  silence  sitte 

The  ghostlie  companie.  < 

And  some  admire  his  reverend  wigge, 

And  some  his  divinitie. 

Olde  Deacon  Ned,  he  scratch'd  his  heade, 

With  many  a  gape  and  stare, 
While  thus  went  on  with  his  long  yarne, 

That  pedler  of  tinne-ware. 

"  At  length  did  crosse  an  old  black  horse, 

Oute  of  the  fielde  be  cane. 
His  taile  was  cropp'd,  and  his  nose  was  blue, 
Just  like  the  one  I  swopp'd  with  you, 

And  Dobbin  was  his  name. 

He  trotted  straight  up  to  my  side. 

And  rounde  and  rounde  I  eyed  him ; 
I  felt  a  bitte  of  an  antic  fitte, 

And  soe  T  jump'd  astride  him." 

"  Dogges  take  thee  !  ancient  pedler-man  ! 

My  wittes  are  at  a  losse. 
Why  squint'st  thou  soe  ?"     Why  Deacon,  yon  knowe 

I  STOLE   THE    OLDE    BLACK   HOBSE  ! 


148         RIME   OF  THE  ANCIENT  PEDLER. 


CANTO      II. 

And  I  grewe  daft  that  jollie  time, 

And  presentlie  I  grewe  dafter. 
A  jollie  time  !  a  jollie  time  ! 

I  'd  nearlie  splitte  with  laughter, 
When  looking  backwards,  I  behelde 

A  something  coming  after. 

At  firste  it  seem'd  a  little  dogge, 

And  then  it  seem'd  a  cowe, 
And  it  grewe  and  grewe,  till  it  look'd  just  like 

A  constable,  I  swowe  ! 

Ah  mee  !  I  growl'd  within  my  gummes 
As  that  magic  shape  drewe  neare, 

"  Is  that  old  Catchpole  now  that  comes, 
To  tvvitche  me  by  the  eare  ? 

Is  it  hee  that  bawles  with  leathern  lungs, 
Like  a  Milke-streete  auctioneere  ?" 

And  hee  cried,  "  Ho  !  ho !  wherever  you  goe, 

Close  at  your  heeles  I  '11  followe !" 
Gramercy  !  then  I  off  did  scoure 
Swearing  in  lesse  than  halfe  an  houre 
To  distance  him  alle  hollowe. 

Like  one  that  scrambles  downe  the  streete, 
His  heeles  in  quicktime  clapping, 

And  faster  and  faster  pulles  aheade, 
The  winde  his  coate-taile  flapping  ; 

Because  he  heares  a  greate  madde  dogge 
Behinde  him  snarling  and  snapping. 

Flie  Dobbin,  flie  !  more  highe  !  more  highe  ! 

And  over  the  mountains  fetche  me  ! 
For  not  so  slowe  doth  the  constable  goe, 

But  yette  he  's  a  chance  to  catche  me. 


RIME   OF  THE  ANCIENT  PEDLER.         149 

The  western  skie  was  all  aflame, 

The  daye  was  well  nighe  clone. 
The  constable  almoste  gave  it  uppe, 

And  thought  himselfe  outrunne, 
When  Dobbin  stumbled  suddenlie, 

And  I  felle  with  a  terrible  stunne  ! 

All  in  a  swour.de  I  lave  on  the  grounde, 

Yet  Dobbin  aheade  did  goe, 
And  gallopping  by  did  the  constable  flie 

Like  the  whizz  of  my  crossbowe ! 

How  long  in  that  same  swounde  I  lave, 

I  really  can't  declare, 
For  I  'm  not  us'd  to  fainting  fittes, 
But  I  heard  as  soone  as  I  came  to  my  wittes, 

Two  voices  in  the  aire. 

"  Egad  !;'  quoth  one,  "  't  will  be  rare  fanne, 

Suche  a  rogue  to  come  acrosse  ? 
Into  what  slye  hole  can  the  rascall  have  stole, 

That  stole  the  olde  blacke  horse  ?" 

The  other  hadde  a  squeaking  voice, 

Yet  he  swore  woundilie  too, 
Quoth  hee,  :-  The  knave  hath  mischiefe  done, 

And  mischiefe  more  wille  doe." 


CANTO      III. 

Deacon. 

But  telle  me,  telle  me,  beginne  againe, 
For  my  braines  in  wonder  are  stewing 

Sticke  to  the  truthe,  and  telle  me  plaine, 
What  was  the  constable  doing? 

13* 


150  RIME  OF  THE  ANCIENT    PEDLER. 

Pedler. 

Stille  as  a  mouse  I  lurking  lave, 

But  juste  ;^s  I  thought  him  past, 
His  great  white  eye  all  roguishlie 

Righte  in  my  face  he  caste. 

And  he  cried,  "  Oho !  my  ladde,  just  soe 
Shoulde  a  knave  get  serv'd  for  his  sinnes  ! 

See  !  neighbor,  see  !  how  prettilie 
He's  batter'd  his  pate  and  shinnes  !  " 

A  scolding  wife  and  a  squalling  Lralte 

Are  things  to  make  men  flie  ; 
A  rattlesnake  or  a  stoute  wilde-catte 

I  'd  rather  not  come  nighe. 
But  a  scarecrow  worse  than  this  or  that, 

Is  the  squinte  of  a  catchpole's  eye  ! 

It  rais'd  my  haire,  it  singed  my  cheeke, 
Like  a  dogge-daye  sunne  in  spring, 

And  I  reallie  felt  some  awkward  feares 
Of  dangling  in  a  string. 

And  quicke  as  a  maggot  I  started  uppe, 

And  over  the  fence  I  flew, 
Swiftlie,  swiftlie,  hard  at  my  heeles 

Did  both  of  those  meune  pursue. 

I  dodg'd  them  here,  I  dodgTd  them  there, 

I  dodg'd  them  all  arounde, 
And  snarl!d  and  scowl'dand  grumbled  and  growl'd 

Like  a  madde  bulle  in  a  pounde. 

I  slipp'd  like  a  snake,  through  brier  and  brake, 

And  ledde  them  a  galloping  heate  ; 
And  over  the  wheate,  and  over  the  rye, 
And  rounde  the  stumpes,  but  't  was  all  my  eye, 
I  knew  I  shoulde  soone  be  beate. 


RIME    OF    THE    ANCIENT    PEDLER.       151 

Alone,  alone  !  all,  all  alone 

I  ranne  with  armes  akimbo, 
But  two  to  om<?  is  a  terrible  oddes, 
And  when  I  had  ledde  them  a  hundred  roddes 

I  founde  myselfe  in  limbo  ! 


CANTO     IV. 

I  felte  him,  horrid  constable  ! 

I  felte  his  skinny  hande  ; 
Slap  on  my  shoulder-blade  it  felle, 

And  broughte  me  to  a  stande. 

I  felte  him  with  his  greate  white  eye, 
And  his  horny  clinchers  browne, 

The  strapping  loone  was  sixe  feete  highe, 
Or  I  coukie  have  knock'd  him  downe. 

He  had  a  monstrous  copper  nose, 

All  fiery  at  the  tippe  ; 
Upon  my  word  it  seem'd  as  bigge 

As  the  figure-heade  of  a  shippe. 
*T  was  hook'd,  as  ofte  greate  noses  are, 
Like  the  new  moone,  but  redder  farre, 
And  he  puff'd  a  huge  long-nine  cigarre 

Within  his  nether  lippe. 

The  constable  soe  beautiful 

Cried  "  Stande  a  little  stiller  !  " 
And  a  thousand  thousand  funnie  jokes,— 
It  's  my  opinion.  Deacon  Stokes, 
They  were  stole  from  Joseph  Miller. 

I  look'd  upon  his  greate  redde  nose, 
And  grinn'd  like  a  Cheshire  catte. 
And  we  kept  joking,  cutte  and  thruste, 
But  I  rather  thinke  he  gotte  the  worste, 
For  I  g^ve  him  titte  for  tatte. 


152       RIME    OF    THE    ANCIENT    PEDLER. 

Quoth  he,  "  Your  fate  would  cause  to  yearne 

My  bowels  —  if  I  hadde  'em, 
For  I  shall  grippe  you  faste  untille 
You  reache  that  house  near  Bunker's  Hille, 

Where  you  shall  pound  MaeAddam. 

Quoth  I,  in  spite  of  certaine  feares, 
"  Old  Catchpole,  that 's  a  whopper  ! 

I  'm  readie,  by  Jove !  to  bette  my  eares 
Againste  a  Bungtovvne  copper." 

The  hills  were  brighte  in  the  sweete  moone-lighte  ; 

How  I  long'd  to  scamper  o'er  them  ! 
But  my  two  friendes  at  fingers'  ends, 

Did  marche  me  close  before  them, 
To  the  taverne-house  where  Daniel  Dobbs 
Sells  breade  and  cheese  and  does  odde  jobbs, 

As  a  justice  of  the  Quorum. 

Is  that  his  signe-poste  all  out  of  jointe, 
That  creaking  swings  in  the  aire  ? 

Is  this  his  doore  all  gnaw'd  by  the  rattes  ? 

Are  these  his  windowes  fulle  of  olde  hattes  ? 
Is  that  his  ladye  fair  ? 

Her  cheekes  were  redde,  her  chinne  was  blue, 

Her  lockes  were  yellowe  as  gold, 
Her  neck  was  thicke  and  her  nose  askewe ; 
I  'd  have  kiss'd  the  wenche,  but  that  would  n't  do, 

Because  she  was  saucie  and  bolde. 

The  taverne-man  alongside  came, 

Quoth  he,  "  Take  my  advice, 
And  the  job  shall  be  done  for  the  sonne  of  a  gunne, 

Ere  you  wette  your  whistle  twice." 


RIME    OF    THE    ANCIENT    PEDLER.       153 

I  shudder'd  and  look'd  sideways  uppe. 
Says  I  "  Give  me  a  goode  stffFe  cuppe 

Of  stingoe  now  to  sippe, 
Smalle  beere  is  thin,  and  't  is  chilly  to-nighte, 
Colde  water  makes  rny  face  looke  white, 

And  gives  me  a  paine  in  the  hippe  " 
Then  just  as  the  doore  was  standing  ajarre, 
Ipeep'd  and  saw  the  man  at  the  barre 

Mixing  a  mugge  of  flippe. 

Quoth  the  taverne-man,  "  This  rogue  is  nowa 

Five  dollars  on  my  score. 
I  chalk'd  it  upp  three  months  agoe 

Behinde  the  kitchen  doore." 
"  'T  is  a  monstrous  lie,  you  knave,"  said  I, 

"  I  never  was  here  before." 

And  the  bolte  of  that  doore,  it  sounded  sore 

Like  a  'tarnal  dungeon  bitter. 
Oh  howe  I  wish'd  to  be  walking  abroade  ! 
But  the  constable  he  kept  watche  and  warde, 

And  I  satte  in  a  terrible  twitter. 

That  taverne-man  went  uppe  the  staires, 

And  to  his  cocke-lofte  hied, 
Slylie  as  he  went  oute  the  doore, 

The  catchpole  wink'd  and  cry'd, 
"  This  pedler  rogue  shall  pave  the  bille 

And  a  swigge  of  punche  beside." 

Then  on  the  benche  his  giant  limmes 

Sixe  feete  and  more  he  spreade. 
But  where  his  heade's  huge  shadowe  layej 
That  fierie  nose  did  burne  alwaye, 

A  stille  and  awful  redde. 


154       RIME     OF    THE    ANCIENT    PEDLER. 

I  squinted  slie  with  my  left  eye 

And  twigg'd  his  queere  attire. 
'T  was  bottle  greene  and  brimstone  blue, 
A  shivering  horror  shotte  me  throughe, 

As  I  satte  by  the  fire. 

And  I  thought  to  sing  some  merrie  glee 
To  sette  my  frighted  noddle  free 

From  thoughts  of  going  to  jaile, 
So  I  tried  "  Opossum  uppe  a  gumme  tree, 

And  pulle  him  down  by  the  taile." 

A  charming  songe,  but  it  all  wente  wronge 

And  sette  me  to  pshawing  and  pishing. 
And  next  I  tried  "  The  Tongs  and  the  Hones," 
But  the  verieOlde  Harrie  was  in  the  tones, 
For  you  never  hearde  such  dismal  moanes 
In  all  your  going  a  fishing. 

O  !  seepe  !  it  is  a  charming  thinge  ! 

For  T  sunk  dreaming  downe. 
And  a  magick  sounde  was  in  my  eares, 
'T  was  not  the  musick  of  the  spheres, 

But  the  noise  of  Boston  towne. 

Sometimes  a  peale  of  merrie  notes 

The  Olde  Southe  bell  did  ring. 
Sometimes  I  hearde  ihe  truckmen  sweare, 
And  Broade-Streete  Paddies  fille  the  aire 

With  their  sweete  jargoning. 

It  ceas'd,  yet  stille  my  eares  kept  on 
A  noise  that  !s  most  appalling  — 

A  noise  as  of  tom-cattes  in  fighte, 
With  mickle  furie  squalling, 

Keeping  folkes  wide  awake  at  nighte 
With  their  sweete  caterwauling. 


"Twos  ?;<>,'/////>/  7/n>r?.l»/  these,  ol&jhoes, 
///////  tki  ■  t  >  v/.  ?&  'M '  a  snot  in  t  \ " 


RIME    OF    THE    ANCIENT    PEDLER.       155 

And  then  burste  oule  a  thundering  shoute  ; 

I  thought  the  earthe  was  quaking. 
Suche  a  clatter  sounds  in  Funnell-Halle 
When  ratte-trappe  Adams  tries  to  bawle. 
And  the  cits  for  funne  imrnenselie  squalle, 

Their  sides  with  laughter  shaking. 

And  then  againe,  it  seem'd  a  straine 

Of  sweete  "  hey  diddle  diddle, 
Prut  tirra-lirra  creako  crack," 
A  jiggling  tune  which  Cuffie  blacke 

Doth  scrape  upon  a  fiddle. 

Ten  thousand  steame-boates  then  let  flie, 

And  I  heard  hotte  water  pouring, 
And  then  long  time  in  grand  sublime 

'T  was  all  Mount  Etna  roaring. 
In  frighte  I  started  from  my  snooze, 
'T  was  nothing  more,  by  these  olde  shooes-, 

Than  the  constable  a  snoring ! 

The  clocke  struck  one  ; — now  cutte  and  runne ! 

Goode  lucke  to  you  for  a  lodger  ! 
I  made  three  steppes  and  a  halfe  to  goe ; 
The  constable  woke  and  bawl'd  "  Hollo  !" 

But  I  cried,  "Avast !  olde  codger!" 
Then  I  crook'd  my  elbowe  as  bee  rose, 
And  aim'd  my  fiste  at  his  bottle  nose, 

And  hitte  him  a  lustie  podger  ! 

That  bottle  nose  burste  forthe  a  sneeze, 

And  an  hundred  pimples  sheene, 
To  and  fro  flashed  sparkles  oute, 
And  to  and  fro  that  Bardolphe  snoute 

Made  the  echoes  roare,  I  weene. 


156   RIME  OF  THE  ANCIENT  PEDLER. 

Then  like  a  pawing  horse  lette  goe, 

I  made  a  sudden  bounde, 
And  I  went  righte  smashe,  through  the  windowe  sashe 

But  instead  of  lighting  on  grounde, 
Plumpe  down  I  felle  in  a  dismal  welle, 

5T  was  ten  to  one  I  had  drown'd. 

The  roofe  broke  through,  and  the  bucket  too, 

'T  was  darke  as  darke  could  bee, 
And  soe,  heeles  firste,  with  a  crashe  I  burste 

Into  that  silent  sea. 

In  the  water  deepe  I  stuck  awhile, 

Faste  anchor'd,  I  've  a  notion. 
And  my  heade  peep'd  oute  like  Noddle's  Isle 

Above  the  Atlanticke  Ocean. 
Ah  mee  !  I  blubber'd  many  a  sobbe, 
And  uppe  and  downe  my  chinne  didde  bobbe 

With  a  short,  uneasie  motion. 

Water,  water,  everywhere, 

Uppe  to  my  eares  did  come  ; 
Water,  water,  everywhere 

But  not  a  droppe  of  rumme  ! 

The  tavern-manne  came  to  the  welie 

And  drewe  me  uppe  to  the  brimme, 
His  wife  and  hee  pull'd  at  the  rope, 

But  shee  said  nought  to  himm 
Till  shee  spied  me  drench'd  so  piteouslie, 
Then  shee  cried,  O  ludd  !  goode  lacke  !  I  see 

The  devill  knowes  howe  to  swimm  ! 

Then  slyli«  he  touch'd  the  side  of  his  nose 

With  one  side  of  his  thumbe, 
And  thrice  hee  wink'd  in  a  knowing  waye, 

And  then  saide  gravelie,  "  Come  !" 
You  !11  paye  mee  twentie  dollars  downe, 

And  forever  I  '11  be  mumme. 


RIME    OF    THE    ANCIENT    PEDLER.        15' 

Then  over  the  hilles  and  farre  awaye, 

I  made  noe  stinte  of  stalking.  — 
Then  shaking  his  heade  did  the  Deacon  saye, 
"  You  saved  your  hacon  by  running  awaye, 

The  Judge  and  Constable  balking." 
Ididde  not  runne,  quoth  the  Pedler  then, 
But  I  guesse  I  show'd  them  a  specimen 

Of  devilish  talle  walking. 

Quoth  the  Deacon,  It  was  an  awful! e  sighte 

Of  cashe  to  lose,  I  trowe.  — 
The  Pedler  began  to  laughe  outrighte : 
Saide  hee,  I  guesse  't  was  an  awfulle  bite, 

They  were  counterfeite  hilles  you  knowe  !  — 
Oho  !  quoth  the  Deacon,  you  served  him  righte, 

I  'd  have  cheated  the  dogge  just  soe  ! 


14 


VOYAGE  OF  DISCOVERY  THROUGH  THE 
STREETS  OF  BOSTON. 

Captain  Hezekiah  Haultight,  formerly  mas- 
ter of  the  schooner  Little  Dick,  trading  be- 
tween Boston  and  the  West  Indies,  was  not 
long  since  honored  with  an  eminent  and  re- 
sponsible appointment  by  the  eminent  and 
honorable  City  Council  of  Boston,  being 
nominated  by  that  august  body  to  the  office 
of  Superintendent  of  the  Snag-Marine  and 
Projective  Surveyor  of  Straits  and  Highways 
in  the  City.  The  Captain,  on  being  apprized 
of  his  election,  recollected  that  he  was  rather 
imperfectly  acquainted  with  the  topography 
of  the  city,  and  not  being  furnished  with 
charts  that  appeared  sufficiently  exact,  he 
determined  to  undertake  a  voyage  of  dis- 
covery. He  communicated  his  design  to  Mr 
Figg,  a  respectable  grocer  in  Hanover  Street, 
newly  chosen  to  the  Common  Council,  and 
like  the  Captain,  deficient  in  information  as 
to  matters  beyond  the  limits  of  his  own  ward. 
Figg  was  once  Skipper  of  a  chebacco  boat, 
and   readily   approved    Haultight's    plan    for    a 


VOYAGE    OF    DISCOVERY,   ETC.  159 

cruise.  They  agreed  to  sail  in  company,  and 
for  further  safety  and  the  promotion  of  sci- 
ence, took  into  their  company  Mr  Benjamin 
Blowze.  ex-captain  of  a  wood  thumper,  and 
at  present  Deputy  Dog-driver  for  Ward  No. 
2.  They  chartered  a  Roxbury  omnibus,  and 
enlisted  a  crew  from  among  the  city  officers, 
consisting  of  the  following  dignitaries  :  — 

Regulator  of  Barber's  Poles. 

Gauger  of  Whiskey  Punch. 

Receiving  Teller  of  Rotten  Apples,  Faneuil 
Hall  Market. 

Clerk  of  the  Snoring  Committee  of  the 
Board  of  Aldermen. 

Overseer  of  Blind  Puppies. 

Deputy  Inspector  of  Dead  Cats. 

Branch  Pilot  of  Mud  Puddles. 

JOURNAL. 

At  10,  A.  M.,  got  under  weigh  and  stood  up 
Hanover  Street  with  a  gentle  breeze.  Saw 
nothing  remarkable  till  we  came  to  Court 
Street,  most  of  the  company  being  pretty  well 
acquainted  with  the  coast.  At  the  head  of 
the  street  found  the  current  setting  to  the 
S.  E.  Got  the  starboard  tack  aboard,  and 
hauled  our  wind.  Stood  up  Howard  Street : 
discovered    nothing  :    bore    away    up    Bulfinch 


160  VOYAGE    OF    DISCOVERY. 

Street  over  Pemberton's  Hill  into  Beacon 
Street.  Wind  freshened  —  judged  ourselves 
near  the  Common.  At  half  past  ten  the  State 
House  appeared  in  sight  on  the  weather  bow. 
Passed  a  school  of  odd  fishes,  which  we  sup- 
posed to  be  of  the  sort  called  representatives. 
In  order  to  ascertain  this,  threw  out  a  cake  of 
gingerbread,  which  was  greedily  snapped  up 
by  them  :  this  settled  the  fact.  Steered  along 
Beacon  Street,  but  seeing  no  land  ahead,  hove 
about  and  bore  away  down  Park  Street.  A 
strong  smell  of  brimstone  came  from  the  shore, 
probably  a  volcano  in  the  interior.  Tacked 
and  stood  down  the  Mall,  and  then  ran  down 
Winter  Street  before  the  wind.  Took  in  sail 
and  steered  down  Washington  Street  with  the 
current,  which  set  strongly  to  the  N.  E.  Saw 
a  great  many  birds  of  paradise  :  tried  to  catch 
one  or  two,  found  them  very  shy.  These 
birds  are  of  very  bright  plumage,  especially 
about  the  head.  They  are  very  hard  to  catch, 
being  always  fluttering  about  and  never  light- 
ing. Saw  also  several  baboons,  which  are 
said  to  be  common  along  this  part  of  the 
coast.  These  creatures  have  commonly  great 
tufts  of  hair  growing  to  the  sides  of  their 
faces,  and  are  much  given  to  chattering.  It 
is  said  they  have  been  taught  to  speak,  but 
this  is  doubtful. 


THROUGH  THE  STREETS   OF  BOSTON.    161 

At  11,  A.  M.,  made  the  Old  South  directly 
ahead.  Came  on  cloudy,  shortened  sail. 
Saw  two  boobies  and  a  noddy.  Made  land 
at  the  Post  Office,  tacked  and  stood  up  Court 
Street.  Found  the  coast  all  along  infested 
with  an  immense  number  of  sharks.  Stood 
off  and  on  for  a  pilot  to  carry  us  clear  of  them, 
but  they  swarmed  about  us  in  such  numbers 
that  we  bore  away,  after  catching  one  of  them 
on  a  hook  baited  with  a  five  dollar  bill. 
Made  sail  and  ran  down  the  coast  by  the  City 
Hall  ;  heard  a  great  puffing  ;  saw  a  shoal  of 
porpoises  ;  —  seemed  to  be  of  the  sort  called 
aldermen.  At  noon,  took  an  observation  and 
found  all  hands  very  thirsty.  Bore  up  and  put 
into  Kenfield's  Bay  for  supplies.  Came  to  an- 
chor in  three  fathoms  of  strong  water. 

At  1,  P.  M.,  piped  all  hands,  hove  up  anchor 
and  put  to  sea  ;  current  strong,  rather  cloudy, 
and  ship  very  much  by  the  head.  Stood  off 
and  on  in  State  Street  ;  —  full  change  ;  —  great 
flocks  of  gulls,  boobies,  noddies  and  lame 
ducks  hovering  about  us ;  many  sharks  under 
water  watching  for  prey.  Bore  away  and  ran 
down  State  Street  between  the  banks  ;  —  very 
shoal  water  ;  —  no  safe  navigation  in  these 
parts.  Hauled  our  wind  and  ran  through 
Merchant's  Row  ;  — breakers  all  round  us. 
14* 


162  VOYAGE   OF  DISCOVERY 

Kept  a  sharp  look-out  and  hove  the  lead. 
Passed  Faneuil  Hall — heard  a  whale  spout- 
ing. Bore  away  down  North  Market  Street  ; 
tacked  and  stood  through  Commercial  Street, 
India  Street,  and  Broad  Street.  Vast  numbers 
of  mud-larks  singing  about  here.  Came  on 
squally,  —  took  in  sail  ;  put  the  helm  hard  up 
and  wore  ship  round  Fort  Hill  down  Purchase 
Street  :  felt  a  shock  of  an  earthquake  under 
water.  Saw  mountains  looming  up  high  in  the 
distance,  which  we  took  at  first  sight  to  be 
Eastern  lands,  but  it  turned  out  to  be  Cape  Fly- 
away. Coast  all  along  here  strewed  with 
wrecks  ;  picked  up  the  mainmast  of  a  Boston 
speculator  that  had  foundered  in  ninety  thousand 
fathoms  of  land  in  sight  of  the  city  of  Ban- 
gor. 

Two,  P.  M.  Hauled  upon  the  lee  braces 
and  bore  up  through  Federal  Street,  Milk 
Street,  and  Kilby  Street  ;  saw  a  good  many 
jackasses,  and  knocked  down  three  auction- 
eers ;  —  found  the  wind  rising.  Bore  away 
and  stood  up  State  Street  :  sharks  all  gone, 
and  only  a  few  lame  ducks  left.  Made  sail 
and  ran  up  Washington  Street.  Birds  of 
Paradise,  wagtails,  baboons,  puppies  and  all 
such  animals  in  abundance.  Passing  the  Old 
South,  saw   a  black   crow   and    several   owls. 


THROUGH  THE   STREETS   OF  BOSTON.     163 

Off  Marlborough  House  found  the  water  very 
cold,  —  certain  sign  of  shallows.  Kept  the 
helm  steady,  hove  the  lead  and  looked  out 
sharp :  reefed  the  topsails,  tacked  and  stood 
up  Winter  Street  with  a  strong  breeze  right 
in  our  teeth.  Filled  away  through  Tremont 
Street  :  shoals  of  odd  fish  coming  down  from 
the  State  House,  most  of  them  very  scaly  fry. 
Took  in  sail  ;  bent  a  cable  ;  ran  down  Hanover 
Street  and  came  to  anchor  at  half  past  2,  P.  M. 
General  Remarks.  The  natives  of  all  the 
coasts  we  have  visited,  are  very  much  given 
to  trading,  especially  in  notions.  They  seem 
disposed  to  sell  every  thing.  Wives  are  al- 
most always  bought  with  money.  Their 
appetites  are  voracious,  and  they  are  extrava- 
gantly fond  of  a  certain  food  called  hhumm- 
bugg,  which  they  swallow  in  crude  lumps,  and 
suffer  strange  fits  of  madness  while  under  its 
effects.  Voyagers  who  go  among  them  should 
by  all  means  furnish  themselves  with  a  large 
supply  of  this  commodity,  for  nothing  will  gain 
a  surer  welcome.  They  ride  a  great  deal  on 
hobbies,  and  when  fairly  mounted,  will  cut  the 
strangest  capers  imaginable.  It  is  not  always 
possible  to  understand  their  language,  for  many 
of  the  natives  are  addicted  to  a  jargon  called 
kaant,  which  is  the  hardest  dialect  in  the  world 


164  VOYAGE  OF  DISCOVERY,   ETC. 

to  interpret.  A  good  many  things  are  manufac- 
tured by  them,  particularly  an  article  called 
phudge.  Various  attempts  have  been  made  to 
civilize  these  people,  but  as  long  as  voyagers 
continue  to  supply  them  with  hhummbugg.  there 
seems  little  hope  of  them.  There  is  a  region  in 
this  country,  called  Ward  No.  5,  which  we  did 
not  visit,  as  we  were  informed  we  should  run 
great  hazard  of  not  getting  away  again.  A  tra- 
ding vessel,  called  the  Poor  Gentleman,  visited 
that  quarter  last  year,  and  cast  anchor  on  a  very- 
rocky  spot  called  the  Stone  Jug,  which  held  so 
fast,  she  has  not  been  able  to  start  her  anchor  to 
this  day. 


THE  SCIENCE  OF   STARVATION. 

Titania.     Or  say,  sweet  love,  what  thou  desirest  to  eat. 

Bottom.  Truly,  a  peck  of  provender.  I  ould  munch  your 
good  dry  oats.  Methinks  I  have  a  great  desire  to  a  bottle  of 
hay. 

The  ancient  philosopher,  when  he  had  a 
mind  to  eat,  opened  his  mouth  ;  the  moderns, 
when  they  have  a  mind  either  to  eat  or  drink, 
are  afraid  to  do  any  such  thing  as  opening  their 
mouths.  This  is  a  scientific  age,  and  we  have 
so  wonderfully  improved  on  the  practice  of  the 
ancients,  that  we  must  study  books  and  hear  lec- 
tures, before  we  can  be  sure  that  it  is  safe  to  eat 
a  potato. 

I,  for  my  part,  wonder  how  our  grandfa- 
thers and  great-grandfathers,  those  tough  old 
fellows,  kept  soul  and  body  together.  They 
ate  their  victuals  and  went  about  their  busi- 
ness. It  is  a  positive  fact,  they  had  no  diete- 
tics —  they  had  no  system  ;  —  Heavens  and 
earth  !  is  it  possible  ?  Yes,  they  had  no  such 
thing  as  a  system,  that  necromantic  machine 
which     carries     every     thing     onward    nowa- 


166  THE   SCIENCE   OF   STARVATION. 

days.  They  ate  whatever  they  wanted,  and 
as  much  as  they  wanted,  never  troubled 
themselves  about  physiology;  and  did  not 
know  whether  they  had  one  stomach  or  half 
a  dozen.  They  had  no  such  scientific  lights 
to  illuminate  the  dark  subjects  of  chewing 
and  swallowing,  as  their  more  knowing  de- 
scendants possess  :  they  never  thought  of 
opening  their  mouths  by  rule,  or  wagging 
their  jaws  by  the  pendulum  of  a  clock,  or 
weighing  their  bread  by  half  ounces,  or  phi- 
losophizing upon  fried  pancakes  and  roasted 
pigs'  tails,  or  smelling  alcohol  in  cider,  or  snuff- 
ing poison  in  a  cup  of  coffee,  or  cogitating  upon 
the  gastric  juice,  digestion,  chylification  :  and 
doctoring  and  cosseting  and  coddling  their  sto- 
machs  in  the  ten  thousand  delightful  scientific 
ways  that  modern  system-mongers  have  in- 
vented. 

Our  ancestors  were  certainly  unfortunate, 
and  it  is  impossible  not  to  pity  their  ignorance. 
They  lived  to  ninety,  and  never  suspected 
they  were  poisoning  themselves  all  their  life- 
time. Never  shall  I  forget  the  nervous  hor- 
ror of  my  old  grandmother  when  she  came 
home  from  one  of  the  lectures  of  Dr  Sawdust, 
who  had  been  proving  that  coffee  was  poison. 
The  old  lady  had   drank  four  cups  a  day  ever 


THE    SCIENCE    OF    STARVATION.  167 

since  she  was  ten  years  old.  She  immedi- 
ately clapped  on  her  spectacles,  sat  down  with 
a  piece  of  chalk  and  made  a  calculation  of  the 
quantity.  She  could  hardly  believe  her  eyes 
when  she  discovered  that  she  had  swallowed 
seven  thousand  three  hundred  and  eighty- 
eight  gallons  of  poison!  —  "Better  late  than 
never,"  she  exclaimed,  —  UI  won't  be  poi- 
soned any  longer,  not  I  !  "  And  so,  at  the 
age  of  ninety,  she  reforms  her  diet,  fully  per- 
suaded that  to  go  on  drinking  coffee  would 
kill  her  sooner  or  later.  Another  old  lady,  on 
hearing  that  tea  was  intoxicating,  had  nearly 
gone  into  fits,  and  is  in  great  affliction  at  the 
thought  that  she  has  been  fuddled  every  day 
for  sixty  years  without  knowing  any  thing 
about  it. 

With  the  great  abundance  of  wisdom  upon 
these  matters  that  we  are  now  blessed  with, 
prospects  are  surely  very  encouraging.  If 
we  believe  the  vegetable  diet  wiseacres,  who 
of  course,  know  all  about  it,  human  life  is  to 
be  wonderfully  increased  in  duration  :  they 
talk  of  Methusaleh  and  his  great  uncles  as 
familiarly  as  maidens  of  fifteen  do  of  puppy- 
dogs.  The  danger  seems  to  be  that  peo- 
ple will  live  too  long.  True  it  is  that  none 
of  this   cabbage-fed  tribe  have  yet   given  any 


168  THE    SCIENCE    OF    STARVATION. 

strong  signs  of  longevity  ;  they  all  die  off  most 
unaccountably  just  as  they  are  on  the  point 
of  beginning  to  live  a  thousand  years.  How- 
ever, this  must  be  a  mere  freak  of  nature, 
who  often  takes  a  malicious  pleasure  in  con- 
founding the  wisest  of  our  calculations. 

The  Sawdust  Journal,  a  newspaper  which 
has  been  for  some  time  established  in  this 
city,  must,  we  think,  convince  any  man  who 
will  take  the  trouble  to  read  it,  that  eating  is 
a  very  dangerous  business.  It  is  astounding 
to  perceive  what  multitudes  have  died  of  roast 
beef,  mutton  broth,  and  such  like  slow  poi- 
sons. A  considerate  man  wonders  to  find 
himself  alive,  and  is  fu\\y  convinced  that  he 
ought  to  have  been  dead  long  ago.  But  to 
show  that  people  are  at  last  fairly  awake  on 
this  subject,  and  are  determined  not  to  sit  still 
and  be  poisoned  any  longer,  we  make  the 
following  extract  from  the  editor's  correspon- 
dence. 


TO    THE    EDITOR    OF    THE    SAWDUST    JOURNAL. 

GoOSEBOROUGH,    DECEMBER    25,    1837. 

Friend  JVithershins  :  —  I  wrote  to  you 
some  time  since,  for  the  Library  of  Star- 
vation,   and    the    Sawdust    Journal ;    I    hope 


THE    SCIENCE    OF    STARVATION.  169 

you  will  send  those  excellent  publications 
as  soon  as  possible,  with  any  other  works 
you  may  have  on  the  subject  of  short  com- 
mons. Public  attention  is  now  strongly  turn- 
ed towards  these  subjects,  and  we  really  hun- 
ger and  thirst  after  every  thing  in  the  shape 
of  bare  bones.  Doctor  Sawdust  has  been  lec- 
turing in  this  place,  and  produced  quite  an 
excitement  :  his  proofs  of  the  pernicious  con- 
sequences of  eating  food  were  in  the  highest 
degree  convincing  ;  people  discovered  them- 
selves to  be  sick  who  never  dreamt  of  the 
thing  before  :  indeed,  it  is  very  clear  that  but 
for  Dr  Sawdust,  we  should  never  know  half 
our  misfortunes.  Flesh  meat  is  now  held  in 
utter  abomination  among  us.  People  are 
turning  their  pigs  out  of  doors  at  a  great  rate  ; 
all  the  cows  are  cashiered,  and  the  poultry 
have  been  obliged  to  cut  and  run.  As  for  a 
beef  steak,  I  need  not  say,  such  a  thing  is  not 
to  be  had  for  love  or  money  :  sausages  are 
entirely  out  of  demand,  except  such  as  are 
stuffed  with  red  baize  and  turnips  ;  and  I 
verily  believe  the  ghost  of  a  sheep's  head 
would  frighten  the  whole  community.  Flesh, 
in  fact,  is  quite  out  of  the  question,  and  no- 
thing is  fish  that  comes  to  net  here  ;  a  man 
could  not  get  even  a  salt  eel  for  his  supper. 
15 


170     THE  SCIENCE  OF  STARVATION. 

All  the   dogs  have  run   mad,  and  every  cat  in 
the  town  has  departed  this  life. 

I  hope,  friend  Withershins,  we  shall  have 
the  pleasure  of  beholding  your  hatchet  face 
among  us  before  long.  You  would  be  de- 
lighted to  see  the  sharpness  of  our  noses,  the 
prominence  of  our  cheek-bones,  and  the  beau- 
tiful lantern-like  transparency  of  our  jaws. 
The  good  work  is  going  on,  although  a  great 
many  among  us  are  going  off;  this,  however, 
cannot  be  owing  to  their  change  of  diet,  but 
to  the  roast  turkeys  they  ate  last  winter. 
There  is  a  class  of  young  ladies  at  Mrs  Nip- 
po's  boarding-house,  who  are  living  (those,  I 
mean,  who  still  survive)  in  exact  adherence 
to  the  principles  of  Dr  Sawdust,  and  find  their 
complexions  highly  improved  by  it.  They 
have  excellent  soup,  made  of  pebble-stones 
boiled  in  clear  spring  water  :  sometimes  they 
strain  it  through  a  colander  of  turnip-tops  ; 
but  this  the  Doctor  calls  high  living.  The 
sawdust  dough-nuts  never  give  them  the 
heart-burn  ;  and  if  you  shake  a  bunch  of  rad- 
ishes at  them  once  a  week,  ft  is  all  they  want. 
You  never  saw  a  more  beautiful  and  interest- 
ing sight  than  these  young  ladies  ;  they  re- 
semble fair  and  delicate  cabbage-plants  grow- 
ing under   the    shady   side  of  a  barn.     Their 


THE   SCIENCE   OF   STARVATION.  171 

strength  is  so  much  improved  by  their  diet, 
that  they  have  no  occasion  for  exercise,  and 
never  feel  the  least  desire  to  walk  about.  In- 
deed, this  would  be  somewhat  hazardous,  for 
one  of  them  being  abroad  on  a  windy  day 
last  week,  was  accidentally  blown  against  the 
side  of  a  newly  painted  house,  where  she 
stuck  till  somebody  came  to  her  relief.  Since 
this  catastrophe,  they  have  all  kept  within 
doors,  which,  in  fact,  is  much  the  best  way  for 
true  Sawdustarians. 

Since  writing  the  above,  I  have  received 
accounts  from  the  neighboring  town  of  Noo- 
dleton,  where  Dr  Sawdust  has  also  been 
lecturing.  The  good  work  is  going  on  there. 
The  people  have  given  up  eating  entirely. 
Most  of  them  do  nothing  but  gape,  though 
even  this  is  censured  as  a  superfluous  luxury, 
as  well  as  the  practice  of  sucking  fog  through 
rye  straws.  Tee-total  Fast  Day  Forever  As- 
sociations are  rapidly  forming.  Several  peo- 
ple have  sewed  up  their  mouths,  and  assure 
me  the  sensation  is  delightful  ;  others  hold 
back,  and  think  that  knocking  their  teeth  out 
is  going  far  enough.  However,  the  general 
cry  is  u  go  ahead,"  and  I  think  these  last 
must  knock  under,  in  spite  of  their  teeth. 

Brother    Sappy   lectured    on   water-porridge 


172  THE    SCIENCE   OF   STARVATION. 

last  evening,  and  delighted  a  most  enthusias- 
tic audience.  He  gave  a  flaming  description 
of  carrots,  and  the  mention  of  onions  brought 
tears  into  every  eye.  He  means  next  week 
to  take  up  the  question  on  the  moral  qualities 
of  baked  beans.  We  are  all  as  thriving  as 
corn-stalks  ;  there  is  not  a  face  in  the  town 
that  is  not  pea-green. 

Yours  most  emaciatingly, 

Simon  Scarecrow, 


DECLINE    AND    FALL    OF    THE    CITY   OF 
DOGTOWN. 

Dogtown  is  a  beautiful  place  in  the  interior 
of  this  State.  There  is  plenty  of  land  around 
it,  so  that  nothing  can  hinder  it  from  growing 
in  every  direction,  and  thus  becoming  a  great 
city.  In  fact,  Dogtown  has  already  a  one- 
story  church,  part  of  a  schoolhouse,  and  an 
elegant  pound.  Nobody  can  see  Dogtown 
without  being  reminded  of  that  celebrated 
town  in  France,  named  Grandville,  of  which 
we  have  the  following  description  : 

Grand ville,  grand  vilain, 
Une  eglise  et  un  moulin 
Voila  Grandville  tout  a  plein. 

Which  we  may  translate  thus  : 

Grandville,  great  Grandville 
Has  a  meetinghouse  and  mill, 
Nothing  else  in  all  Grandville. 

Dogtown  is  finely  and  advantageously  situ- 
ated. It  stands  on  Eel  River,  a  stream  of 
water  which  runs  into  another  stream,  and 
that  into  a  third,  which  runs  into  Connecticut 
River,  which  running  into  Long  Island  Sound, 
15  * 


174  DECLINE  AND    FALL  OF 

finally  reaches  the  Atlantic  :  who  does  not 
see,  therefore,  that  Dogtown  may  become  a 
great  seaport  ?  The  territory  in  the  neigh- 
borhood of  Dogtown  is  remarkable  for  its  fer- 
tility, bating  that  part  of  it  which  is  covered 
with  rocks,  the  salt  meadow,  the  pine  woods, 
the  clay-ponds  and  the  swamps.  It  is  past  a 
doubt,  therefore,  that  the  territory,  if  well 
cleared,  drained,  peopled  and  cultivated, 
would  become  a  perfect  garden,  abounding 
with  the  richest  productions  of  nature,  and 
affording  a  mine  of  wealth  to  the  country. 
As  to  the  facilities  of  communication  with  the 
great  Atlantic  cities  and  commercial  marts, 
they  are  admirable.  Dogtown  has  Boston  on 
one  side  and  New  York  on  the  other.  Mont- 
real and  Quebec  are  in  the  north,  while  in  the 
east  is  the  rich  and  thriving  State  of  Maine, 
with  Bangor  and  Owl's  Head  to  boot.  Rail 
roads  can  be  made  to  connect  Dogtown  with 
all  these  places,  and  they  will  certainly  form 
such  a  connection,  when  they  are  built.  That 
the  place  will  be  a  great  focus  of  trade  when 
this  is  done,  nobody  I  think  will  deny.  The 
neighborhood  of  Dogtown  has  all  the  advan- 
tages that  can  be  desired  in  a  young  country. 
There  will  be  as  many  large  towns  within 
thirty  miles   of  the  place,  as  people  choose  to 


THE  CITY  OF  DOGTOWN.  175 

build.  The  population  cannot  fail  to  increase 
rapidly,  for  a  man  can  get  married  for  seven- 
tyfive  cents,  town  clerk's  fees  included.  The 
attraction  for  settlers  must  therefore  be  con- 
sidered very  great.  The  Dogtowners  are  re- 
markably industrious,  for  they  get  a  living, 
although  constantly  grumbling  of  hard  times. 
They  are  moreover  ingenious,  for  they  manu- 
facture axe  handles,  wooden  bowls,  birch 
brooms,  and  white  oak  cheese,  and  invent 
mouse  traps  and  washing  machines.  Last  of 
all,  the  inhabitants  of  Dogtown  are  literary 
and  intellectual,  for  they  talk  a  great  deal  of 
the  march  of  improvement,  and  the  minister 
and  the  lawyer  take  the  Penny  Magazine  be- 
tween them. 

All  these  attractions  together,  form  a  combi- 
nation truly  wonderful.  But  the  reader  will 
be  astonished  when  I  inform  him  that  the  in- 
habitants of  this  favored  spot  lived  a  great 
many  years  without  the  smallest  suspicion  of 
what  I  have  been  describing.  They  thought 
very  little  of  themselves  or  of  the  town  they 
lived  in,  and  continued  to  vegetate  from  year 
to  year  without  imagining  they  were  better 
off  than  other  folks.  In  fact,  the  world  might 
have  continued  to  this  day  in  utter  ignorance 
that    Dogtown    was    such    a   wonderful    place, 


176  DECLINE   AND  FALL   OF 

but  for  an  accident  ;  —  an  accident  I  call  it,  for 
the  Dogtowners  having  lived  for  so  many  years 
without  opening  their  eyes,  the  fact  that  they 
did  open  them  of  a  sudden,  on  a  certain  day 
in  the  year  of  grace,  1834,  must  be  considered 
purely  accidental.  Some  people  are  inclined 
to  ascribe  it  to  the  approach  of  the  comet, 
which  had  a  powerful  influence  in  opening 
people's  eyes,  —  to  say  nothing  of  its  effect  in 
driving  them  stark  mad.  But  that  is  neither 
here  nor  there.  The  people  of  Dogtown  open- 
ed their  eyes  and  saw  :  that  was  enough,  they 
saw  in  an  instant  their  immense  advantages, 
and  were  astonished  that  they  never  had  seen 
them  before.  They  saw  their  advantages,  I 
say,  and  were  determined  to  turn  them  to 
account. 

Straightway  Dogtown  was  all  alive  ;  every 
body  was  confident  that  Dogtown  must  be- 
come a  great  place  ;  and  as  every  body  told 
every  body  else  so,  there  was  no  doubt  about 
the  matter.  Every  man  went  to  buying  land 
who  could  pay  for  it  ;  and  those  who  could 
not  pay,  bought  upon  credit,  sure  of  selling  it 
at  ten  times  the  cost  within  the  year.  Nothing 
was  talked  of  but  the  immense  advantages  of 
the  place.  The  riches  of  Dogtown  were  in- 
deed immense,  and  how  they  could  have  been 


THE  CITY  OF  DOGTOWN.  177 

overlooked  so  long,  was  a  mystery  that  no  one 
could  understand.  The  land  within  the  lim- 
its of  the  town  was  computed  at  720,000,000 
square  feet,  which  at  only  one  cent  per 
square  foot,  which  is  cheap  enough  in  all 
conscience,  would  amount  to  7,200,000  dol- 
lars. What  a  sum  !  But  this  was  not  all. 
Half  of  this  land  was  covered  with  trees  at 
the  rate  of  one  tree  to  every  five  feet  square, 
or  quadrangle  of  twenty  five  feet  :  this  gave 
a  computation  of  10,400,000  trees  ;  and  as 
each  tree  on  an  average  contained  seventy- 
five  cubic  feet  of  timber,  it  followed  that  there 
was  actually  within  the  town  780,000,000  feet 
of  timber,  worth  on  the  lowest  calculation 
five  cent  per  foot,  which  would  amount  to 
39,000,000  dollars.  This,  added  to  the  value 
of  the  land  as    above,    made   a   grand   total   of 

FORTYSIX  MILLIONS  TWO  HUNDRED  THOU- 
SAND DOLLARS  ! 

The  mention  of  these  sums  almost  drove 
the  good  people  of  Dogtown  distracted  with 
joy  ;  they  could  hardly  believe  their  eyes  or 
ears,  but  there  it  was  in  black  and  white  ; 
figures  could  not  lie.  They  were  amazed  to 
think  of  their  own  stupidity  and  that  of  their 
ancestors  in  letting  fortysix  millions  two 
hundred   thousand    dollars   lie  totally   idle   and 


178  DECLINE  AND   FALL   OF 

unproductive  ;  but  they  were  determined  not 
to  allow  their  wealth  to  be  neglected  any 
longer.  A  grand  scheme  of  speculation  and 
improvement  was  started,  and  all  rushed 
headlong  into  it.  Every  man  in  Dogtown 
was  now  rich,  or,  what  was  the  same  thing, 
was  sure  of  being  so  before  long.  Immense 
tracts  were  laid  out  in  building  lots,  and 
speculators  flocked  in  from  all  quarters  ;  from 
Catsville  and  Weazletown  and  Buzzardsbor- 
ough,  and  Ganderfield  and  Crow  Corner  and 
Upper  Bugbury  and  East  Punkinton,  and 
Black  Swamp  and  the  Bottomless  Bogs. 
Such  a  busy  time  as  the  Dogtowners  had  of 
it  !  Nothing  was  talked  of  but  buying  land, 
building  houses,  laying  out  roads,  streets, 
squares,  avenues,  rail  roads,  canals,  &c.  &c. 
&c.  People  left  off  ploughing  and  hoeing, 
because  agriculture  was  too  slow  a  method  of 
making  money  ;  for  who  would  think  of  raising 
turnips  to  sell,  at  twenty  cents  a  bushel,  when 
he  could  make  a  hundred  times  the  profit  by 
speculating  in  land  ? 

First  of  all,  it  was  determined  that  Dogtown 
should  be  a  city.  The  want  of  population  was 
found  to  be  a  serious  obstacle  here  ;  the 
constitution  of  the  state  requires  ten  or  twelve 
thousand  inhabitants  for  a  city  ;  and    as   Dog- 


THE  CITY   OF    DOGTOWN.  179 

town,  including  the  suburbs  of  Puppyville  and 
Skunk's  Misery,  contained  a  population  of 
only  six  hundred  and  thirtyone,  it  was  thought 
there  might  be  some  difficulty  in  getting  a 
charter  without  anticipating  the  returns  of  the 
next  census.  However,  a  city  it  must  be, 
some  time  or  other,  in  this  all  wrere  agreed, 
and  it  might  as  well  have  the  name  first  as 
last  ;  so  they  concluded  to  call  it  a  city.  It  is 
astonishing  what  a  spirit  of  enterprise  these 
prospects  infused  into  the  people  of  DogtowTn. 
The  schoolhouse  door  was  painted  green,  un- 
cle Joe  Stubbins  mended  the  top  of  his  chim- 
ney, and  it  was  voted  in  town-meeting  to 
purchase  three  wheelbarrows  for  the  public 
use  ;  —  and  all  in  consequence  of  these  pro- 
jected improvements.  Nay,  so  widely  did  their 
views  of  business  expand,  that  Aminadab  Fig- 
gins,  the  grocer,  determined  to  give  up  retailing, 
and  declared  he  would  n't  split  crackers  nor  cut 
candles  any  longer. 

Such  was  the  thriving  condition  of  the  City 
of  Dogtown  when  I  left  the  place  in  the  au- 
tumn of  that  year.  I  continued  to  hear  of  it 
through  the  medium  of  the  Dogtown  Daily 
Advertiser,  a  newspaper  established  there  by 
an  enterprising  printer  from  Connecticut  at 
the   first  dawning  of  the   commercial  prosperi- 


180  DECLINE  AND   PALL  OF 

ty  of  the  city.  It  appeared  to  go  ahead  rap- 
idly. The  newspaper  spoke  of  the  Exchange, 
the  Town  Hall,  the  Bank,  the  New  Post  Of- 
fice, the  Rail  Road,  Canal,  &c.  House  lots 
were  advertised  in  Washington  Square,  Mer- 
chant's Row,  State  Street,  Market  Street,  &c. 
Contracts  were  proposed  for  building  churches, 
manufactories,  &c.  This  was  Dogtown  in  all 
its  glory. 

Last  August  I  determined  to  make  a  visit 
to  this  celebrated  place  in  order  to  feast  my 
eyes  with  the  splendor  of  a  city  that  had 
sprung  up  as  it  were  by  enchantment.  When 
I  reached  the  foot  of  Blueberry  Hill,  which 
overlooks  the  whole  place,  I  walked  eagerly 
to  the  top,  in  order  to  catch  a  view,  at  a  single 
glance,  of  the  city  in  all  its  magnificence. 
To  my  utter  astonishment,  instead  of  spires 
and  domes,  I  saw  nothing  but  Deacon  Stum- 
py's  old  mansion,  with  five  other  ragged  and 
dingy  looking  edifices,  which  stood  exactly 
wrhere  I  had  always  known  them.  I  entered 
the  city  through  State  Street,  but  discovered 
nothing  new  except  a  small  house  without  a 
chimney.  Not  a  living  thing  was  to  be  seen 
in  Washington  Square,  but  three  geese,  who 
were  lazily  picking  a  mouthful  of  grass  among 
the   mud-puddles.       I    inquired     for    the   Ex- 


the  city  of  dogtown.  181 

change,  and  found  it  in  use  by  the  Deacon  as  a 
cow-pen.  The  new  church,  however,  I  was 
told  had  actually  proceeded  as  far  as  the  raising 
of  the  timbers  ;  but  it  was  subsequently  sold  by 
auction  to  pay  for  digging  the  cellar. 

I  had  a  check  upon  the  Dogtown  Bank  for 
three  dollars,  and  wishing  to  draw  the  money,  I 
was  directed  to  No.  19  Tremont  Street.  This 
turned  out  to  be  the  identical  building  formerly 
occupied  by  c*ld  Kit  Cobble,  the  shoemaker. 
It  was  bank  hours,  but  the  bank  was  shut,  and 
there  was  not  a  soul  to  be  seen.  Just  as  I 
was  going  away,  I  spied  a  tin  horn  hanging  by 
the  door,  with  a  paper  over  it,  on  wrhich  was 
written,  "  Persons  having  business  at  the  bank, 
are  requested  to  blow  the  horn."  I  put  the 
horn  to  my  lips  and  blew  a  blast  both  long  and 
loud.  After  waiting  about  ten  minutes,  I  spied 
Isaac  Thumper  coming  slowly  down  the  road  : 
he  proved  to  be  the  cashier  of  the  Dogtown 
Bank,  and  after  some  difficulty  I  convinced  him 
of  the  safety  of  cashing  the  check. 

Upon  inquiring  of  Isaac  what  use  had  been 
made  of  the  fortysix  millions  two  hundred  thou- 
sand dollars,  he  informed  me  that  most  of  it 
remained  invested  in  notes  of  hand.  Money 
was  scarce,  and  was  expected  to  continue  so 
until  the  onion  crop  had  been  got  in.  It  was 
16 


182  DECLINE  AND    FALL,    ETC. 

easy  to  see  that  the  city  had  sadly  declined  from 
its  meridian  splendor.  In  fact,  Dogtown  has 
suffered  a  complete  downfall,  for  hardly  any- 
body now  speaks  of  it  as  a  city.  They  have  as 
much  land  as  ever,  and  so  long  as  it  continued 
to  be  valued  at  their  own  price,  they  were  as 
rich  as  Jews  ;  but,  unfortunately,  it  fell  in  value 
the  moment  they  expected  the  purchasers  to 
pay  for  it.  The  Dogtowners  are  poor  enough 
at  present,  but  they  are  not  the  first,  and  proba- 
bly will  not  be  the  last  people  who  have  ruined 
themselves  by  building  a  city  on  speculation. 


PROCEEDINGS  OF  THE  SOCIETY  FOR  THE 
DIFFUSION  OF  USELESS  KNOWLEDGE. 

AT    THE    ASINEUM. 

The  Annual  Meeting  of  the  Society  for  the 
Diffusion  of  Useless  Knowledge  and  the  Gen- 
eral Confusion  of  the  Human  Understanding, 
was  held  at  the  Asineurn  on  Monday  last  ; 
the  President,  the  Rev.  Dr  Bubble,  took  the 
chair,  precisely  at  seven  o'clock,  assisted  by 
the  Hon.  Mr  Fudgeneld,  and  Timothy  Tin- 
shins,  Esq.,  Vice  Presidents.  The  President 
delivered  an  introductory  discourse  on  the 
usefulness  of  useless  knowledge  and  the  ad- 
vantages of  confusion  in  the  understanding, 
which  elicited  the  greatest  applause  from  a 
thronged  and  delighted  audience.  The  follow- 
ing is  an  abridged  copy. 

Gentlemen  of  the  Useless  Knowledge  Association: 

I  have  the  honor  of  congratulating  you  on 
this  anniversary  meeting.  We  are  engaged, 
gentlemen,  in  a  stupendous  effort.  The  ob- 
ject  of  our  endeavors  is  to  place  the  founda- 


184  PROCEEDINGS  OP    THE  SOCIETY  FOR 

tions  of  the  intellectual  universe  on  the  high- 
est state  of  moral  elevation.  There  is  great 
truth,  gentlemen,  in  the  exaggeration,  that  the 
intense  application  of  human  intellect  in  infi- 
nitesimal quantities  to  the  analytical  pursuit 
of  psychological  investigation,  leads  to  the 
surest  mathematical  discrimination  of  moral 
idiosyncracies.  The  human  mind,  gentlemen, 
I  consider  as  composed  of  two  qualities,  — 
rationaiion  and  immaterial  recipiency.  Facts 
are  imbibed  by  the  inductive  process  of  men- 
tal recipiency,  and,  being  rationally  rationa- 
ted,  lead  to  reason.  This  we  denominate  the 
March  of  Intellect  :  and  intellect  hath  three 
branches,  namely,  logic,  metaphysics,  and 
dogmatics,  which,  being  synthetically  com- 
bined, constitute  man  a  reasoning  animal. 
As  the  Stagyrite  remarks,  concerning  the 
method  of  philosophical  induction,  "  Omnis 
ratio  de  ratione  rationans,  rationare  facit  ra- 
tionaliter  rationando  omnes  homines  rationan- 
tes"  an  axiom  which,  I  apprehend,  no  one 
will  deny.  In  the  unenlightened  mind,  all 
attempts  at  reasoning  are  in  the  highest  de- 
gree unreasonable,  just  as  in  the  dark  all  cats 
are  grey.  Gentlemen,  we  live  in  an  enlight- 
ened age  ;  Peter  Parley  and  the  printing  press 
have  effected  a  moral  and  hypercritical   revo- 


THE  DIFFUSION  OF  USELESS    KNOWLEDGE.    185 

lution  ;  all  men  can  read  the  Pandects,  the 
Novum  Organum,  and  Poor  Polly  Jenkins. 
Instead  of  the  spelling-book  and  the  primer, 
our  children  have  Cudworth's  Intellectual 
System  and  Adelung's  Mithridates.  Modern 
intellect  may  be  compared  to  a  magnificent 
toadstool,  which  shoots  out  its  head  on  all 
sides,  the  moment  it  gets  an  inch  above 
ground.  Sometimes  it  has  been  compared  to 
an  overgrown  pumpkin-vine,  sprouting  right 
and  left,  and  grasping  at  more  than  it  can 
hold ;  but  this  is  a  misrepresentation  :  the 
mind  will  hold  any  quantity  of  knowledge 
since  the  invention  of  lyceums  and  encyclo- 
pedias ;  and  there  is  no  difficulty  at  the  pres- 
ent day,  in  getting  a  quart  into  a  pint  pot. 
Gentlemen,  I  say  to  you,  go  on.  Let  useless 
knowledge  flourish.  The  world  is  growing 
wise.  Man  is  tall  in  intellectual  stature  ;  his 
heels  are  on  the  earth,  but  his  head  is  in  the 
clouds. 

The  following  report  of  the  standing  commit- 
tee was  then  read. 

REPORT. 

The  Standing  Committee  of  the  Society  for 
the   Diffusion  of  Useless   Knowledge  and  the 
16  * 


186         PROCEEDINGS  OF    THE    SOCIETY  FOR 

General  Confusion  of  the  Human  Understand- 
ing, beg  leave  to  report,  that  the  affairs  of  the 
Society  were  never  in  a  more  prosperous  and 
desirable  condition.  They  have  great  plea- 
sure in  congratulating  the  Society  upon  the 
encouraging  prospects  which  the  present  state 
of  the  country  holds  out  to  them.  Useless 
knowledge  was  never  more  highly  prized  or 
more  eagerly  sought  after  ;  and  mortal  under- 
standings were  never  in  a  more  admirable  con- 
fusion than  at  present.  Your  Committee  beg 
leave  to  call  the  attention  of  the  Society  to  sun- 
dry circumstances  which,  in  their  opinion,  have 
had  the  most  powerful  effect  in  bringing  about 
these  desirable  results. 

Your  Committee  feel  bound  to  distinguish 
with  the  most  pointed  and  laudatory  regard, 
the  efforts  of  the  newspaper  editors  of  this 
country,  who,  in  the  course  of  the  past  year, 
have  labored  with  the  most  disinterested  zeal 
in  forwarding  the  objects  of  the  Society  :  they 
have  constantly  shown  themselves  friends  of 
useless  knowledge  and  confounders  of  the 
brains  and  understanding  of  mankind.  Your 
Committee  would  particularly  call  to  your 
approving  notice,  the  unwearied  industry  of 
these  gentlemen  in  discovering  mares'  nests, 
righting    windmills,  basting  dead  cats,  bottling 


THE  DIFFUSION  OF  USELESS  KNOWLEDGE.     187 

moonshine,  catching  Tartars,  peeping  through 
millstones,  swallowing  earthquakes,  gobbling 
down  piracies,  and  bridling  their  asses  at  the 
tail.  Your  Committee  recommend  that  each 
newspaper  editor  be  presented  with  an  ele- 
gant leather  medal,  bearing  the  inscription, 
"  Ex  fumo  dare  Zitcem,"  in  allusion  to  their 
wonderful  sagacity  in  sometimes  distinguish- 
ing smoke  from  fire. 

Your  Committee  would  further  point  out 
to  the  notice  of  the  Society  the  various  quack 
doctors  of  this  country,  and  in  particular  the 
Vegetable  Diet  Sawdust  Live-forever  Starva- 
tion tribe  ;  —  useless  knowledge  is  under  infi- 
nite obligations  to  these  individuals,  though 
their  reward  and  encouragement  wrould  seem 
rather  to  belong  to  that  enlightened  associa- 
tion, the  Society  for  the  Extinction  of  the 
Human  Species.  Nevertheless,  considering 
the  immense  amount  of  useless  knowledge 
they  have  propagated,  and  its  effects  in  pro- 
ducing confusion  not  only  in  the  understand- 
ings, but  in  the  bodies  of  men,  your  Com- 
mittee do  not  feel  at  liberty  to  pass  them  by 
without  some  adequate  notice.  They  there- 
fore recommend  that  each  of  these  persons  be 
presented  with  a  medal  of  the  purest  and 
hardest  bronze,  bearing  the  inscription  "  Stul- 


188  PROCEEDINGS  OF  THE  SOCIETY  FOR 

tbrum  injinitus  est  numerus,"  in  allusion  to  the 
very  wide  field  which  exists  for  their  praise- 
worthy and  philanthropic  labors. 

Your  Committee  would  further  recommend 
to  your  favorable  notice,  those  worthy  and 
enlightened  individuals  the  March  of  Intellect 
Cold  Water  Tee-totallers,  who  have  manfully 
lent  their  strong  assistance  towards  promoting 
the  objects  of  this  Society.  Your  Committee 
cannot  praise  too  highly  the  labors  of  these 
gentlemen  in  propagating  useless  knowledge. 
The  world  is  indebted  to  them  for  the  discov- 
ery of  the  method  of  drinking  out  of  empty 
glasses,  getting  high  on  cold  water,  decanting 
a  bottle  of  hay,  sucking  April  fog  through 
goose-quills,  and  the  demonstration  by  chemi- 
cal analysis,  that  sixteen  thousand  cubic  miles 
of  moonshine  contain  alcohol  enough  to  fud- 
dle three  moschetoes.  But  the  most  amazing 
discovery  due  to  the  ingenuity  of  these  gen- 
tlemen, relates  to  whiskey  punch,  which  they 
have  ascertained  to  be  not  whiskey  punch, 
but  a  compound  of  prussic  acid,  opodeldoc, 
nux  vomica,  prelinpinpin,  coloquintida,  peppe- 
raria,  suderumhatcheta,  and  a  conglomeration 
of  heterogeneous  concoctions  too  numerous  to 
mention.  The  most  brilliant  discoveries  may 
still  be  expected   of  the   Tee-tollers,  as  they 


THE  DIFFUSION  OF  USELESS  KNOWLEDGE.     189 

are  now  engaged  in  an  inquiry  into  the  meta- 
physical character  of  pint  pots.  Your  Com- 
mittee recommend  that  each  individual  of  the 
March  of  Intellect  Tee-total  Association  be 
presented  with  a  tin  dipper  of  the  shallowest 
possible  form,  with  the  strictest  injunctions 
never  to  put  his  nose  into  it  ;  the  said  tin  dip- 
per to  bear  the  Spartan  inscription,  C'H  k*v  '7 
87iv  tag  :  alluding  to  the  fact,  that  if  they  cannot 
drink  out  of  it.  they  can  suck  round  the 
edges. 

Your  Committee  further  recommend  to  the 
favorable  regard  of  the  Society  that  distin- 
guished individual,  Dr  Humm,  the  ingenious 
reviver  of  animal  magnetism,  whose  labors  in 
the  cause  of  the  Society  deserve  the  highest 
commendation.  Dr  Humm  has  not  only  been 
instrumental  in'  extending  knowledge  useless, 
and  more  than  useless,  but  he  has  also  thrown 
the  understandings  of  many  human  beings 
into  confusion  worse  confounded.  His  suc- 
cess in  this  particular  has  been  most  brilliant, 
and  many  individuals  under  his  influence  are 
so  far  gone  in  their  intellectuals,  that  they  do 
not  show  the  least  glimmer  of  common  sense. 
Your  Committee  beg  leave  to  lay  before  the 
Society  a  brief  relation  of  the  brilliant  and 
astonishing    experiment    in    animal    magnetism 


190  PROCEEDINGS  OF  THE  SOCIETY  FOR 

performed  by  Dr  Huram  upon  the  person  of 
a  full  grown,  intelligent  and  respectable  cat 
of  this  city,  in  the  presence  of  a  large  number 
of  citizens  of  the  first  talent  and  respecta- 
bility. 

"  All  things  being  prepared,  the  cat  was 
brought  into  the  room  and  placed  in  an  arm- 
chair. The  cat  was  a  grey  tabby,  with  a 
black  and  yellow  tail,  and  sea-green  eyes, 
and  a  mild  and  ingenuous  expression  of  coun- 
tenance, and  appeared  to  be  about  four  years 
old.  Doctor  Humm  assured  us  there  was  no 
sort  of  private  understanding  between  him 
and  the  cat,  as  had  been  suspected  by  some 
sceptical  persons.  Indeed,  the  cat  appeared 
perfectly  innocent,  and  every  body  was  quite 
convinced  of  her  honesty.  She  stared  round 
at  the  company  with  wondering  eyes,  as  if 
not  comprehending  the  cause  of  the  assem- 
blage, but  could  not  escape  from  the  chair, 
because  she  was  held  down  by  her  paws  and 
tail  by  five  of  the  gentlemen  present.  Dr 
Humm  then  began  the  magnetic  operation  by 
placing  the  fore  and  middle  fingers  of  his  left 
hand  over  her  eyes  so  as  to  keep  them  shut 
close,  and  drawing  the  fore  finger  of  his  right 
hand  in  a  direct  line  from  the  cat's  nose  across 
her   bosom   down  to  the   extremity  of  her  left 


THE  DIFFUSION  OF  USELESS  KNOWLEDGE.    191 

paw.  The  magnetic  effect  was  immediately 
apparent.  Her  tail  began  to  wag,  so  much 
so  that  the  Rev.  Mr  Fogbrain,  who  was  hold- 
ing on  by  that  limb,  immediately  let  it  go  in 
order  to  witness  the  result  of  this  strange  phe- 
nomenon. In  thirteen  seconds  there  was  a 
sensible  vibration  of  the  cat's  tail,  which 
waved  from  side  to  side,  describing  twenty- 
seven  degrees  of  the  segment  of  a  circle.  A 
general  murmur  ran  throughout  the  assembly. 
1  It  wags  !  it  wags  !  '  exclaimed  every  one  — 
there  was  no  longer  any  room  for  doubt  ;  the 
most  sceptical  among  the  spectators  was 
thoroughly  convinced  that  the  tail  was  wag- 
ging, and  even  that  arch  unbeliever  Simon 
Sly  was  heard  to  declare  he  did  not  doubt  of 
the  waggery. 

"  Dr  Humm  now  changed  his  operation, 
and  commencing  as  before  at  the  cat's  nose, 
he  passed  his  two  ringers  up  the  skull  bone 
between  the  ears,  down  the  occiput,  round 
under  the  neck  to  the  tip  of  the  shoulder- 
blade,  and  thence  in  a  straight  line  down  to 
the  left  paw.  After  thirty  one  magnetic  al 
touches  in  this  manner,  the  wagging  of  the 
tail  increased  to  such  a  degree  as  to  describe 
almost  a  semicircle,  and  Dr  Humm  declared 
the    animal    was    sound    asleep.     As   the    cat 


192  PROCEEDINGS  OP  THE  SOCTETY  FOR 

gave  no  evidence  to  the  contrary  except  by 
the  wagging,  there  was  no  doubt  of  the  fact, 
for  the  Doctor  assured  us  that  magnetized 
cats  always  wagged  their  tails  when  sleeping. 
The  cat  was  therefore  declared  to  be  in  a  fit 
state  for  experiments,  and  Doctor  Humm  be- 
gan by  willing  the  cat's  tail  to  tie  itself  up  in 
a  bow-knot  :  the  tail  immediately  twisted 
itself  round  and  described  the  figure  of  a 
bow-knot  in  the  air.  This  was  witnessed 
with  astonishment  by  every  one  in  the  room. 
Mr  Noddy  seeing  the  wonderful  effect  of  the 
experiment,  signified  a  wish  to  bear  a  part  in 
the  operation,  to  which  Dr  Humm  very  po- 
litely consented.  Mr  Noddy  therefore  pro- 
ceeded to  magnetize  the  cat  from  the  tip  of 
the  lower  jaw,  under  the  chin,  across  the  tra- 
chea and  thorax,  down  to  the  heel  of  the  right 
paw  :  the  cat  immediately  gave  a  loud  mew  : 
which  in  a  sleeping  cat  must  have  been  a 
sure  sign  that  something  ailed  her.  Mr  Nod- 
dy then  willed  her  nose  to  be  in  a  rat-hole, 
which  took  immediate  effect  by  the  cat's 
snapping  sharply  at  his  fore  finger.  This  as- 
tonished the  company  a  second  time,  and  Dr 
Humm  made  a  third  experiment  by  willing 
the  cat  to  be  thrown  souse  into  Frog  Pond. 
The    Rev.   Mr   Fogbrain    immediately   let   go 


THE  DIFFUSION  OF  USELESS  KNOWLEDGE.       193 

her  fore  paws,  and  strange  to  say,  they  began 
pad,  padding,  as  if  attempting  to  swim.  The 
murmurs  of  admiration  that  ran  round  the 
company  at  this  wonderful  sight  are  not  to  be 
described.  c  She  swims  I  she  swims  !  '  ex- 
claimed every  one  ;  the  proof  was  complete  ; 
most  of  the  spectators  could  hear  the  splash- 
ing of  the  water  in  the  pond,  and  some  even 
imagined  they  could  see  the  hdovs  chucking 
stones  at  her.  After  this  had  been  displayed 
to  the  full  satisfaction  of  the  company,  Dr 
Humm  willed  her  to  come  safe  ashore  ;  not- 
withstanding, her  paws  continued  to  paddle, 
but  this  was  easily  accounted  for,  as  the  Doctor 
assured  us  she  would  stand  perfectly  still  as 
soon  as  she  got  her  land-legs  on. 

"Various  other  experiments  followed,  which 
we  have  not  space  to  describe  in  detail.  Dr 
Scantiwit  willed  the  cat  to  be  in  a  mustard 
pot,  whereupon  she  immediately  gave  a  loud 
sneeze,  and  made  an  immensely  wry  face, 
Mr  Milksop  willed  her  to  be  lapping  cream, 
on  which  she  gave  a  hearty  purr  and  licked 
her  chops  three  times.  Mr  Dryasdust  willed 
her  to  scratch  his  wig,  and  at  the  same  mo- 
ment felt  a  sharp  tingling  under  his  skull- 
bone,  by  which  he  was  convinced  he  had 
something  there,  &c.  &c.,? 
17 


194  PROCEEDINGS   OF  THE  SOCIETY  FOR 

Your  Committee  having  laid  before  the 
Society  these  wonderful  experiments,  recom- 
mend that  Dr  Humm,  and  each  of  the  indivi- 
duals who  assisted  as  above,  be  presented 
with  the  Freedom  of  the  Corporation  of  Fool's 
Paradise. 

Your  Committee  would  recommend  to  the 
respectful  notice  of  the  Society  the  various 
public  lecturer's  of  this  portion  of  the  country, 
and  in  particular,  those  who  treat  of  German 
metaphysics.  Coleridgism,  optimism,  and  sim- 
ilar ultra-mundane  exaltations  of  the  human 
intellect.  Your  Committee  suggest  that  a 
prize  be  proposed  the  ensuing  year  for  the 
best  dissertation  on  the  following  subject,  — 
"  The  Influence  of  Transcendental  Metaphy- 
sics on  the  Growth  of  Cabbages."  They  re- 
commend that  each  transcendentalist  be  pre- 
sented with  a  broomstick  of  not-walnut  for 
the  purpose  of  flying  through  the  air. 

Your  Committee  would  trespass  too  far 
upon  the  time  of  the  Society,  were  they  to 
enumerate  at  length  all  the  matters  which 
deserve  their  attention.  They  are  obliged 
reluctantly,  therefore,  to  pass  with  a  bare  men- 
tion, the  great  number  of  old  women,  quid- 
nuncs, schemers,  dreamers,  steamers,  system- 
mongers,    method-mongers,    improvers-of-soci- 


THE   DIFFUSION  OF  USELESS  KNOWLEDGE.     195 

ety,  &c,  who  are  now  exercising  so  vast  an 
bfluence  in  this  country.  They  recommend 
that  a  medal  be  struck,  emblematical  of  the  whole 
of  this  enlightened  community  ;  the  said  medal 
to  bear  on  one  side  the  figure  of  a  toad  just  ready 
to  jump,  with  the  legend,  "  Sedet,  eternwnqve 
sedebit,"  in  allusion  to  the  march  of  intellect  ; 
and  on  the  reverse,  the  figure  of  a  corn-stalk 
monument,  with  the  words,  Ci*Ere  pertnnius" 
in  allusion  to  the  lasting  fame  of  all  march-of- 
intellect  people. 


BOSTON   LYRICS. 

Fresh  mackerel !  Fresh  mackerel ! 

Oh  !  what  a  dismal  doom  is  mine  ! 
To  hear  each  morn  that  horrid  yell 

Bellow'd  from  four  o'clock  till  nine. 
When  up  the  eastern  arch  of  blue, 

Dan  Phcebus  drives  his  fiery  wain, 
Slumber  and  dreams  and  rest,  adieu! 

I  court  the  drowsy  god  in  vain  ; 
For  hark  !  the  cry,  —  I  know  it  well, 
Fresh  mackerel !  Fresh  mackerel ! 

I  'm  vexed  to  wrath  : — I  've  got  the  blues, 

It  really  is  too  much  to  bear. 
Will  ne'er  one  matutinal  snooze 

Knit  up  my  "  ravelled  sleeve  of  care"  i 
Presumptuous  wish  ! — relentless  spite  ! 

Just  as  I  drop  into  a  swound, 
When  morning  hours  to  sleep  invite, 

A  caitiff,  whom  ihe  plagues  confound, 
Roars  loud  as  any  'larum  bell, 
Fresh  mackerel !  Fresh  mackerel ! 

Obstreperous  cur! — He  '11  be  my  death, 

I  wish  he  'd  other  fish  to  fry, 
May  throttling  hiccups  catch  his  breath, 

And  yawnings  twist  his  jaws  a-wry. 
Hear  it  again  !  that  stentor  note  ! 

That  loudest  of  ten  thousand  tongues  ! 
The  wrathful  gods  have  steeled  his  throat, 

And  gifted  him  with  brazen  lungs  ! 
^T  will  surely  be  my  funeral  knell, 
Fresh  mackerel!  Fresh  mackerel  1 


BOSTON    LYRICS.  197 

Oh,  powers  of  sleep  !  what  would  I  give 

That  I  could  go  to  bed  betimes ! 
But 't  is  my  luckless  lot  to  live 

Scnbbling  vile  prose  and  viler  rhymes- 
Perforce  I  trim  the  midnight  flame, 

And  when  to  late  repose  I  lay 
Nid-nodding  down,  my  weary  frame, 

I  hear  him  just  at  break  of  day 
Come  bellowing  like  a  demon  fell, 
Fresh  mackerel  !  Fresh  mackerel ! 

Time  was,  in  peace  ]  closed  my  eye; 

Knew  many  a  slumber,  long  and  deep. 
But  now  this  vender  of  vile  fry, 

Like  old  Macbeth,  "  hath  murder'd  sleep." 
How  startling  on  my  ear  it  falls, 

When  visions  crown  the  blissful  hours, 
Of  orient  domes  and  golden  halls, 

And  fairy  isl  >s  and  Paphian  bowers, 
The  bursting  of  that  magic  spell, 
Fresh  mackerel !  Fresh  mackerel  I 

Oh,  City  Marshal !  must  I  sup 

More  full  of  horrors  ?    Sir,  I  wish 
You  'd  stir  your  stumps  and  hunt  me  up 

The  ordinance  on  crying  fish. 
rT  is  your  high  function  to  look  out 

That  Boston  folks  receive  no  harm. 
Then  cast  those  Argus  eyes  about, 

Lift  up  at  once  that  potent  arm 
And  silence  that  confounded  yell, 
Fresh  mackerel !  Fresh  mackerel ! 


17 


BOB    LEE. 


A    TALE. 


In  a  remote  region  of  the  Hoosac  Moun- 
tains is  a  little  place  called  Turkeytovvn.  It 
is  a  straggling  assemblage  of  dingy,  old 
fashioned  houses  surrounded  by  the  woods, 
and  the  inhabitants  are  as  old  fashioned  as 
their  dwellings.  They  raise  corn  and  pump- 
kins, believe  in  witches,  and  know  nothing  of 
rail  roads  or  the  march  of  intellect.  There 
has  never  been  more  than  one  pair  of  boots  in 
the  town  :  these  are  called  u  the  town  boots, " 
and  are  provided  at  the  public  expense,  to  be 
worn  to  Boston  every  winter  by  the  represen- 
tative. I  had  the  satisfaction  last  week  of 
actually  seeing  these  venerable  coriaceous  in- 
teguments in  official  duty  upon  the  long 
shanks  of  Colonel  Crabapple  of  the  General 
Court,  and  was  struck  with  becoming  awe  at 
their  veteran  looks.  They  seemed  to  be 
somewhat  the  worse  for  wear,  but  the  Colonel 
informed    me   the    town   had    lately   voted   to 


BOB    LEE.  199 

have  them  heel-tapped,  and  the  vote  would  pro- 
bably be  carried  into  effect  before  the  next  ses- 
sion. 

The  present  story,  however,  is  not  about  boots, 
but  about  Bob  Lee,  who  was  an  odd  sort  of  a 
fellow,  that  lived  upon  the  skirts  of  Turkeytown, 
and  got  his  living  by  hook  and  by  crook.  He 
had  neither  chick  nor  child,  but  kept  a  bachelor's 
hall  in  a  rickety  old  house,  without  any  compa- 
nion except  an  old  black  hen,  whom  he  kept  to 
amuse  him  because  she  had  a  most  unearthly 
mode  of  cackling  that  nobody  could  understand. 
Bob  used  to  spend  his  time  in  shooting  wild 
ducks,  trapping  foxes  and  musquashes,  catching 
pigeons,  and  other  vagabond  and  aboriginal  oc- 
cupations, by  means  of  which  he  contrived  to- 
keep  his  pot  boiling,  and  a  ragged  jacket  upon 
bis  back.  Nothing  could  induce  him  to  work 
hard  and  lay  up  something  for  a  rainy  day.  Bob 
left  the  rainy  days  to  take  care  of  themselves, 
and  thought  of  nothing  but  sunshine.  In  short, 
the  incorrigible  vagabond  was  as  lazy,  careless, 
ragged  and  happy  as  any  man  you  ever  saw  of  a 
summer's  day. 

And  it  fell  out  upon  a  summer's  day,  that  Bob 
found  himself  without  a  cent  in  his  pocket  or  a 
morsel  of  victuals  in  the  house.  His  whole  dis- 
posable wealth  consisted   of  a  single   fox-skin 


200  BOB  LEE. 

nailed  against  his  back  door,  drying  in  the  sun. 
Something  must  be  had  for  dinner,  and  Bob 
took  down  the  fox-skin  and  set  off  for  Deacon 
Grabbit's  store  to  sell  it.  As  luck  would  have 
it,  before  he  had  gone  a  quarter  of  a  mile,  he 
met  old  Tim  Twist,  the  Connecticut  podler,  a 
crony  and  boon  companion  of  many  years' stand- 
ing. Tim,  who  was  glad  to  see  his  old  gossip, 
invited  him  into  Major  Shute's  tavern  to  take  a 
glass  of  New-England.  Bob,  who  had  never 
signed  the  temperance  pledge,  accepted  the  in- 
vitation nothing  loth.  They  sat  down  over  half 
a  pint  and  discussed  the  news.  No  drink  tastes 
better  than  that  which  a  man  gets  for  nothing.  It 
was  a  hot  day,  and  both  were  very  thirsty.  Tim 
was  very  liberal  for  a  Connecticut  man.  What 
will  you  have  ?  In  the  upshot  they  found  they 
had  made  an  immense  potation  of  it  :  and  Bob 
took  leave  of  his  old  friend,  clearly  satisfied 
that  he  had  not  taken  so  heavy  a  pull  for  many  a 
day. 

He  had  hardly  got  out  of  sight  of  the  tavern 
before  he  found  the  road  too  crooked  to  travel  ; 
he  sat  down  under  an  apple-tree  to  take  a  little 
cool  reflection,  but  the  more  he  reflected,  the 
more  he  could  not  understand  it  :  his  eyes  began 
to  wag  in  his  head,  and  he  was  just  on  the  point 
of  falling  asleep,  when  a  bob  o'link  alighted  on  a 


BOB   LEE.  201 

branch  over  his  head  and  began  to  sing  "  Bob 
o'link  I  bob  o'link  !  bob  o'link  !  "  Bob  Lee"s 
brains  were  by  this  time  in  such  a  fog,  that  his 
eyes  and  ears  were  all  askew,  and  he  did  not 
doubt  somebody  was  calling  on  him. 

"  Hollo,  neighbor  !  "  says  Bob  Lee. 

"Bob  o'link  !  bob  o'link  !  what  ye  got  ?  what 
ye  got  ?  what  ye  got  ?  "  chattered  the  bird  —  as- 
Bob  thought. 

"  Got  a  fox-skin,"  answered  he.  "D'ye 
want  to  buy  ?  " 

"  Bob  o'link  !  bob  o'link  !  what  'II  ye  take  ? 
what  '11  ye  take  ?  "  returned  the  little  feathered 
chatterer. 

"  Half  a  dollar,"  replied  Bob,  "  and  it  's  worth 
every  cent  of  the  money." 

"  Bob  o'link  !  bob  o'link  !  bob  o'link  !  two 
and  threepence  !  two  and  threepence  I  two  and 
threepence  !"  was  the  reply  from  the  apple-tree.. 

"Won't  take  it,"  said  Bob  ;  "  it  's  a  real  sil- 
ver-grey :  half  a  dollar  is  little  enought  for  it* 
Can't  sell  it  for  two  and  threepence." 

"  Bob  o'link  !  bob  o'link  !  you  'd  better, 
you  'd  better,  you  'd  better  ;  two  and  three- 
pence^tvvo  and  threepence,  two  and  threepence  ; 
now  or  never,  now  or  never,  now  or  never." 

"  Can't  ye  say  any  more  ?  Well,  take  it 
then-      I  won't  stand  for  ninepence.       Hand  us 


202  BOB   LEE. 

us  over  the  money,"  said  Bob,  twisting  his  head 
round  and  round,  endeavoring  to  get  a  sight  of 
the  person  with  whom  he  was  bargaining. 

"  Bob  o'link  !  bob  o'link  !  bob  o'link  !  let 's 
have  it  !  let  's  have  it,  let  's  have  it  ;  quick  or 
ye  '11  lose  it  !  quick  or  ye  '11  lose  it  !" 

Bob  turned  his  head  toward  the  quarter  from 
which  the  sound  proceeded,  and  imagining  he  saw 
somebody  in  the  tree,  threw  up  the  fox-skin, 
exclaiming,  "There  it  is,  and  cheap  enough  too, 
at  two  and  threepence."  Mr  Bob  o'link  started 
and  flew  away,  singing  "  Bob  o'link,  bob  o'link  ! 
catch  a  weazel,  catch  a  weazel,  catchaweazel !" 
for  Bob  Lee  made  clear  English  of  every  thing 
the  bird  said,  and  never  doubted  all  the  while 
that  he  was  driving  a  regular  bargain  with  a 
country  trader.  At  the  same  time,  spying  a  toad- 
stool growing  at  the  foot  of  the  tree,  he  imagin- 
ed it  to  be  a  half  dollar,  and  made  a  grasp  at  it. 
The  toadstool  was  demolished  under  his  hand, 
but  Bob  happening  to  clutch  a  pebble-stone  at 
the  same  moment,  thrust  it  into  his  pocket,  fully 
persuaded  he  had  secured  his  coin.  "Can't 
make  change,  — remember  it  next  time  !"  said 
he,  and  so  turning  about,  he  made  the  best  of 
his  way  homewards. 

When  he  awoke  the  next  morning,  he  felt  in 
his  pocket   for  the  half  dollar,  but  his   astonish- 


BOB  LEE.  203 

merit  cannot  be  described  at  finding  it  metamor- 
phosed into  a  stone.  He  rubbed  his  eyes,  but 
the  more  he  rubbed  them,  the  more  like  a  stone  it 
looked  :  —  decidedly  a  stone  !  He  thought  of 
witchcraft,  but  presently  recollecting  that  he  had 
taken  a  drop  too  much,  just  before  the  bargain 
under  the  apple-tree,  he  became  of  opinion  that 
he  had  been  cheated,  and  that  the  crafty  rogue 
who  had  bought  his  fox-skin,  had  taken  advan- 
tage of  his  circumstances  to  palm  off  a  stone 
upon  him  for  silver.  Boo  started  upon  his  legs 
at  the  very  thought.  "A  rascal  !"  he  exclaimed, 
"  I  '11  catch  him  if  he  's  above  ground  !  "  No 
sooner  said  than  done.  Out  he  sallied  in  a  tre- 
mendous chafe,  determined  to  pursue  the  rogue 
to  the  further  end  of  the  state.  He  questioned 
every  person  he  met,  whether  he  had  not  seen 
a  crafty  looking  caitiff  sharking  about  the  town 
and  buying  fox-skins,  but  nobody  seemed  to 
know  any  such  creature.  He  ran  up  and  down 
the  road,  called  at  Major  Shute's  tavern,  at 
Deacon  Grabbit's  store,  at  Colonel  Crabapple's 
grocery,  at  Tim  Thumper's  shoemaker's  shop,  at 
Cobb's  bank  and  at  Slouch's  corner,  but  not  a 
soul  had  seen  the  man  with  the  fox-skin.  Bob 
was  half  out  of  his  wits  at  being  thus  baulked 
in  his  chase,  never  imagining  he  was  all  the  while 
in  pursuit  of  an  innocent  little  bob  o'link. 


204  BOB  LEE. 

In  great  vexation  at  this  disappointment,  he 
was  slowly  plodding  his  way  homeward,  when 
he  came  in  sight  of  the  spot  where  he  had  made 
this  unfortunate  traffic  with  the  roguish  unknown. 
*c  Oh  apple-tree  !  "  he  exclaimed,  tc  if  thou 
bee'st  an  honest  apple-tree,  tell  me  what  has  be- 
come of  my  fox-skin."  He  looked  up  as  he 
uttered  these  words,  and  to  his  astonishment, 
there  was  his  fox-skin,  dangling  in  the  air  at  the 
end  of  a  branch  !  He  knew  not  what  to  make 
of  so  strange  an  adventure,  but  he  was  never- 
theless overjoyed  to  recover  his  property,  and 
climbing  the  tree,  threw  it  to  the  ground.  The 
tree  was  old  and  hollow  ;  in  descending,  he 
thrust  his  foot  into  an  opening  in  the  trunk,  some 
distance  above  the  ground,  and  felt  something 
loose  inside.  He  drew  it  out  and  found  it  was 
a  heavy  lump,  which  he  imagined  at  first  to  be 
a  stone  wrapped  round  with  a  cloth.  It  proved, 
however,  on  examination,  to  be  a  bag  of  dollars  ! 

He  could  hardly  believe  his  eyes,  but  after 
turning  them  over  and  over,  ringing  them  upon 
a  stone  and  cutting  the  edge  of  some  of  them 
with  a  knife,  at  length  satisfied  himself  that  they 
were  true  silver  pieces.  The  next  inquiry  was, 
how  they  came  there,  and  to  whom  they  be- 
longed. Here  he  was  totally  in  the  dark.  The 
owner  of  the  land  surely  could  not  be  the  pro- 


BOB    LEE.  205 

prietor  of  the  money,  for  he  had  no  need  of  a 
strong  box  in  such  a  sly  place.  The  money 
had  lain  in  the  tree  some  years,  as  was  evident 
from  the  condition  of  the  bag,  which  was  nearly 
decayed.  Was  it  stolen  ?  No  —  because  no- 
body in  these  parts  had  lost  such  a  sum.  Was 
it  the  fruit  of  a  highway  robbery  ?  No  robbery 
had  been  committed  in  this  quarter,  time  out  of 
mind.  There  were  no  imaginable  means  of  ac- 
counting for  the  deposit  of  money  in  such  a 
place.  The  owner  or  depositor  had  never  re- 
turned to  claim  it,  and  was  now  probably  dead 
or  gone  away,  never  to  return. 

Such  were  the  thoughts  that  Bob  revolved  in 
his  mind  as  he  gloated  over  his  newly  gotten 
treasure.  At  first  he  thought  of  making  the  dis- 
covery public,  but  reflecting  on  the  many  annoy- 
ances which  this  would  bring  upon  him  in  the 
inquisitive  curiosity  of  his  neighbors,  and  more 
especially  considering  that  the  cash  must  in  con- 
sequence lie  a  long  time  useless,  ere  he  could  be 
legally  allowed  to  apply  it  as  his  own  property, 
he  resolved  to  say  nothing  about  it,  but  to  con- 
sider the  money  his  own  immediately.  It  was 
therefore  conveyed  the  same  evening  to  his 
house,  and  snugly  lodged  in  his  chest. 

From  that  day  forward  it  began  to  be  remark- 
ed   among  the    neighbors,   that  Bob  Lee   was 
18 


206  BOB    LEE. 

mighty  flush  of  money,  and  though  he  had  no 
visible  means  of  subsistence,  spent  a  great  deal 
more  than  he  was  wont.  More  especially  it  ex- 
cited their  wonder  that  his  pockets  always  con- 
tained hard  dollars,  while  other  people  had  little 
besides  paper.  There  is  nothing  equal  to  the 
prying  curiosity  of  the  inhabitants  of  a  country 
village,  and  the  buzzing  and  stir  which  an  insig- 
nificant matter  will  arouse  among  a  set  of  inquis- 
itive gossips.  Everybody  began  to  talk  about 
the  affair,  but  nobody  knew  how  to  account  for 
it.  All  sorts  of  guesses  and  conjectures  were 
put  upon  the  rack,  but  nothing  was  able  to  ex- 
plain the  mystery.  All  sorts  of  hints,  inquiries 
and  entreaties  were  put  in  requisition.  Bob  was 
proof  against  all  their  inquisitiveness  and  seemed 
resolved  to  let  them  die  in  the  agonies  of  unsat- 
isfied curiosity. 

Bob  stood  it  out  for  a  long  while,  but  human 
endurance  has  its  limits,  and  after  being  worried 
with  guesses  and  questions  till  he  despaired  of 
ever  being  left  in  quiet  possession  of  his  own 
secret,  he  began  to  cast  about  for  a  method  of 
allaying  the  public  curiosity  in  some  measure, 
or  at  least  of  turning  it  aside  from  himself.  An 
old  gossip,  named  Goody  Brown,  had  laid  seige 
to  him  about  the  affair  from  the  first  moment. 
One  afternoon  she  dropped  in  as  usual,  and  after 


BOB    LEE.  207 

some  preliminary  tattle,  recommenced  the  at- 
tack by  inquiring  with  a  significant  look  and 
shake  of  the  head,  whether  money  was  as  scarce 
as  ever  with  him.  Bob  had  been  for  some  time 
thinking  of  a  trick  to  play  the  old  lady,  and 
thought  this  a  good  moment  to  begin  his  mys- 
tification :  so  putting  on  a  look  of  great  serious- 
ness, knitting  his  brows,  and  puckering  up  his 
mouth  as  if  big  with  a  mighty  secret  about  to  be 
communicated,  he  replied  — 

"  Really  Mrs  Brown  —  I  have  been  think- 
ing, whether  —  now  you  are  a  prudent  woman, 
I  am  certain." 

"  A  prudent  woman  indeed  !  who  ever  thought 
of  calling  me  imprudent  ?  Everybody  calls  me 
a  prudent  woman  to  be  sure.  You  need  not 
doubt  it,  though  I  say  so." 

"  You  are  a  prudent  woman,  no  doubt,  and 
I  have  been  thinking,  I  say,  whether  I  might 
trust  you  with  a  secret  !  " 

"  A  secret  !  a  secret !  a  secret  !  Oh  Mr  Bob, 
then  there  is  a  secret,"  said  the  old  lady  aroused 
into  great  animation  by  the  prospect  of  getting 
at  the  bottom  of  the  mystery  at  last. 

"  Yes,  Mrs  Brown,  to  confess  the  truth,  there 
is  a  secret." 

"  Oh  !  I  knew  it  !  I  knew  it  !  I  knew  there 
was  a  secret.     I  always  said  there  was  a  secret. 


203  BOB    LEE. 

I  was  always  sure  there  was  a  secret.     I  told 
everybody  I  knew  there  must  be  a  secret." 

"  But  Mrs  Brown,  this  must  be  kept  a 
secret  ;  so  perhaps  I  had  better  keep  it  to 
myself.  If  you  cannot  keep  a  secret  —  why 
then  "  — 

"Good  lack!  Mr  Lee,  I  am  sure  you  are 
not  afraid.  Never  fear  me  :  I  can  keep  a 
secret :  Everybody  knows  how  well  I  can  keep 
a  secret." 

"  Everybody  knows  to  be  sure,  how  well  you 
can  keep  a  secret ;  that  is  just  what  I  am  think- 
ing about." 

cc  Sure  Mr  Bob,  you  don't  mean  to  keep  me 
out  of  the  secret  now  you  have  begun.  Come, 
come,  what  is  it  ?  You  know  I  can  keep  a  se- 
cret ;  you  know  I  can." 

tc  But  this,  recollect,  Mrs  Brown,  is  a  very 
particular  secret ;  and  if  I  tell  it  to  you  —  hey 
Mrs  Brown,  it  must  be  in  confidence  you  know." 

"  Oh,  in  confidence  !  to  be  sure  in  confi- 
dence ;  certainly  in  confidence  ;  I  keep  every 
thing  in  confidence." 

"  But  now,  I  recollect,  Mrs  Brown,  that  sto- 
ry about  Zachary  Numps  —  they  say  you 
blabb'd." 

u  Oh  law  !  now  Mr  Lee,  no  such  thing  !  I 
only  said  one  day  in  company  with  two  or  three 


BOB   LEE.  209 

people  —  altogether  in  confidence  —  that  some- 
folks  might,  if  they  chose,  say  so  and  so  about 
some-folks.  It  was  all  in  confidence,  but  some 
how  or  other  it  got  out." 

u  If  you  are  sure  you  can  keep  the  secret 
then,  I  think  I  may  trust  you  with  it  ;  but  you 
must  promise." 

u  Oh  !  promise  !  certainly  I  will  promise,  Mr 
Bob  ;  nobody  will  promise  more  than  I  will  — 
that  is,  I  certainly  will  promise  to  keep  the  se- 
cret." 

"  Then  let  me  tell  you,"  said  he  in  a  low, 
solemn  voice,  hitching  his  chair  at  the  same  time 
nearer  to  the  old  woman,  who  sat  with  open 
mouth  and  staring  eyes,  eager  to  devour  the 
wished-for  secret  —  "  These  dollars  of  mine  — 
you  know,  Mrs  Brown"  —  here  he  stopped, 
keeping  her  in  the  most  provoking  suspense  im- 
aginable. 

"  Yes,  yes,  the  dollars,  the  dollars." 

"  These  dollars  of  mine,  you  know,  Mrs 
Brown  —  why  they  are  dollars  —  hey  ?" 

"  Yes,  the  dollars,  the  dollars,  go  on,  go  on, 
where  do  they  come  from  ?  Mr  Bob,  where 
do  you  get  them  ?  Where  do  you  get  them  ?" 

"  Why  I  get  tjiem  somewhere — you  know, 
but  where  do  you  think  ?" 

"  Yes,  yes,  you  get  them  somewhere  ;  I  al- 
18  * 


210  BOB   LEE. 

ways  thought  you  got  them  somewhere  ;  I  al- 
ways told  everybody  I  knew  you  must  get  them 
somewhere." 

"  Very, well,  Mrs  Brown. " 

"  Very  well  !  Mr  Lee  ;  but  where  do  you 
get  them  ?  That  is  the  question,  —  you  have  not 
told  me." 

"  Where  do  I  get  them,"  said  Bob  slowly  and 
solemnly,  and  rubbing  his  hands  together,  screw- 
ing up  his  mouth,  rolling  his  eyes  and  shaking 
his  head,  while  the  old  lady  was  on  the  tenter 
hooks  of  suspense  and  expectation —  "  Where 
do  I  get  them  —  Now  what  do  you  think,  Mrs 
Brown,  of  my  old  black  hen  ?" 

"  Your  old  black  hen  !   What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

u  There  's  the  thing  now  !  then  you  never 
guessed,  hey  ?  Is  it  possible  you  never  heard 
the  story  of  the  goose  with  the  golden  egg  ?" 

"  To  be  sure,"  replied  Goody,  opening  her 
eyes  wider  than  ever  ;  "  to  be  sure  I  have,  to 
be  sure,  Mr  Bob —  to  be  sure  — but  your  hen, 
you  know  —  is  not  a  goose." 

u  That  is  very  true,  Mrs  Brown,  but  here  is 
another  question.  If  a  goose  can  lay  a  golden 
egg,  why  can't  a  hen  lay  a  silver  one  ?  " 

"  Sure  enough,  Mr  Lee,  sure  enough,  sure 
enough,"  said  the  old  woman,  beginning  to  get 
some  light  on  the  subject. 


BOB     LEE.  211 

"  Sure  enough,  as  you  say.  Now  this  black 
hen  of  mine,  — every  day  I  go  to  the  nest  and 
find  a  silver  dollar  there  !  " 

"  You  amaze  me,  Bob,"  said  she  in  the  great- 
est astonishment.  "  Who  would  have  thought 
it.     Indeed  !  indeed  !  indeed  !  and  is  it  true  ?  " 

"  Why  Mrs  Brown,  if  I  do  not  get  them 
there,  where  do  I  get  them  ? " 

"  Sure  enough  —  well,  my  stars!  I  almost 
knew  it  —  I  always  thought  there  was  something 
strange  in  the  looks  of  that  black  hen." 

"Ah,  you  are  a  cunning  woman  —  but  be  sure 
you  keep  it  a  secret." 

"To  be  sure,  never  fear  me.  A  dollar  a 
day  !  W^ho  would  have  thought  it !  Bless  me  ! 
what  a  lucky  man.  Do,  Mr  Lee,  let  me  see 
the  nest  ;  it  must  be  very  curious  ;  I  am  dying 
to  see  it." 

"  Certainly,  with  all  my  heart ;  but  let  us  see 
if  there  is  nobody  coming.  Ah,  step  this  way  ; 
I  keep  her  in  a  snug  place,  you  see,  because  if 
she  should  run  away,  what  should  I  do  for 
cash  ?"  So  saying,  he-led  the  way,  and  the 
old  woman  trotted  after  him.  He  carried  her 
in  at  one  door  and  out  at  another,  up  this  pas- 
sage and  down  that,  over,  under  and  through, 
zig-zag  and  round  about,  through  all  the  rigma- 
role turnings   and  twistings  upon  his  premises, 


212  BOB    LEE. 

in  order  to  give  the  whole  affair  an  appearance 
of  greater  mystery.  At  last  coming  to  a  little 
nook  in  the  corner  of  his  barn,  he  told  her  that 
was  the  place.  She  gazed  at  it  with  staring 
eyes  and  uplifted  hands,  exclaiming,  "  Was 
there  ever  anything  like  it!"  Bob,  to  carry 
on  the  trick,  concealed  a  dollar  in  his  sleeve, 
and  thrusting  his  hand  into  the  nest,  drew  it 
forth  and  exhibited  it  to  the  old  woman,  who 
was  now  fully  convinced,  because  she  had  ac- 
tually seen  the  dollar  in  the  nest,  and  who  could 
doubt  after  such  proof  ? 

It  is  needless  to  add  that  within  two  days,  the 
story  was  trumpeted  all  over  the  towrn,  and  Bob 
was  beset  with  greater  crowds  than  ever  ;  so  far 
from  diminishing  the  curiosity  of  his  neighbors 
by  the  stratagem,  he  found  he  had  augmented  it 
tenfold.  It  is  not  to  be  supposed  that  every  one 
believed  the  story,  but  there  were  enough  who 
did,  and  the  remainder  fell  to  wondering,  guess- 
ing and  questioning  with  more  pertinacity  than 
ever.  Bob's  house  wTas  besieged  from  morning 
till  night,  and  the  unfortunate  man,  under  these 
redoubled  annoyances,  found  he  had  got  out  of 
the  frying  pan  into  the  fire.  He  now  denied 
the  whole  story,  and  declared  that  he  had  been 
only  sporting  with  the  credulity  of  the  old  Goo- 
dy ;  but  unluckily  they  would  not  believe  him  ; 


BOB   LEE.  213 

people  do  not  like  to  have  their  belief  in  the 
marvellous  disturbed  ;  they  could  not  believe 
his  tale  of  finding  the  money  in  an  oak  tree, 
but  that  the  dollars  were  got  from  a  hen's  nest, 
was  something  worth  believing.  Bob,  at  a  loss 
what  to  do  in  this  emergency,  applied  to  many 
people  for  advice,  and  at  last  was  struck  with 
the  following  counsel  from  Deacon  Grabbitt. 

"  If  I  were  in  jour  place,"  said  the  Deacon, 
<c  I  think  I  would  make  the  hen  turn  me  a  pen- 
ny :  —  for  why  ?  If  folks  believe  she  gives  you 
a  dollar  a  day  they  will  be  willing  to  give  a  good 
price  for  her,  and  if  they  buy  her  and  find  them- 
selves mistaken,  that  is  their  look-out.  Now  I 
would  put  her  up  at  auction  and  sell  her  for  the 
most  she  will  bring  :  it  will  be  a  fair  bargain, 
provided  you  warrant  nothing  !" 

This  advice  seemed  excellent,  and  Bob  was 
not  long  in  making  up  his  mind  to  follow  it.  He 
accordingly  gave  public  notice,  that  he  should 
expose  his  hen  at  auction  in  front  of  the  Meet- 
ing-house on  Saturday  afternoon  next,  at  four  of 
the  clock.  This  announcement  made  a  great 
stir,  and  when  the  time  arrived,  he  found  a  pro- 
digious crowd  assembled.  Bob  mounted  the 
top  of  a  hogshead  with  his  hen  in  one  hand  and 
a  stick  of  wood  in  the  other,  and  began  the  fol- 
lowing harangue  — 


214  BOB  LEE. 

11  Ding-dong,  ding-dong,  ding-dong  !  Ahoy, 
ahoy,  ahoy  !  Know  all  men  by  these  presents. 
Whereas,  nevertheless,  notwithstanding.  Gen- 
tlemen please  to  come  to  order  and  attend  to  the 
sale.  Here  we  are  in  the  name  of  the  common- 
wealth, and  here  is  the  fowl  all  the  world  is  talk- 
ing about,  now  to  be  sold  to  the  highest  bidder. 
Whoever  buys  her  will  get  a  black  pullet  for  his 
pay,  but  as  to  silver  dollars,  that  is  neither  here 
nor  there  ;  I  warrant  no  such  thing,  but  it  may 
lie,  and  it  may  not  be  ;  nobody  knows  all  the 
pickings  and  scratchings  of  the  hen  creation. 
I  '11  warrant  the  creature  to  be  sound  of  wind 
and  limb,  but  whether  her  eggs  are  round  or  flat, 
]  shan't  be  flat  enough  to  swear  quite  so  round- 
l\r :  that  is  the  buyer's  affair,  not  mine.  Gentle- 
nen,  I  moreover  warrant  her  to  be  a  black  hen, 
and  that  no  washing  can  make  her  white  except 
whitewashing.  But  whether  black  or  white, 
nobody  can  say  black  is  the  white  of  her  eye, 
for  she  is  as  honest  a  soul  as  ever  picked  up  a 
crumb,  and  if  she  deals  in  dollars,  you  may  de- 
pend upon  it  they  are  not  counterfeit.  Who- 
ever buys  her  will  get  his  money's  worth  if  he 
does  not  give  too  much  ;  and  he  may  reckon 
on  any  reasonable  number  of  chickens,  provided 
he  does  not  reckon  them  before  they  are  hatched. 
Gentlemen,  I    won't  be  certain  as  to  her  age, 


BOB  LEE.  215 

but  I  will  assure  you  this,  that  if  she  is  too 
young,  it  is  a  fault  will  grow  less  and  less  every 
day.  Here  she  goes.  What  '11  ye  give  mo  ? 
What  '11  ye  give  me  ?  What  '11  ye  give  mn  ? 
Come  bid  away,  gentlemen,  and  make  your  for- 
tunes. Some  folks  say  I  have  made  my  fortune 
by  her,  and  good  luck  betide  them  while  they 
speak  the  truth,  say  I.  People  say  this  and  that, 
but  I  say  nothing.  So,  who  buys  my  hen  ?  — 
Going  — going,  going!  " 

The  old  hen  set  up  a  loud  cackling,  and  flut- 
tered her  wings  prodigiously,  at  the  conclusion 
of  this  speech,  much  to  the  astonishment  of  the 
crowd  of  spectators,  who  gaped,  stared  and 
scratched  their  heads,  imagining  that  the  crea- 
ture understood  every  word  of  what  was  uttered, 
and  never  suspecting  that  Bob  had  given  her  a 
smart  pull  by  the  tail  to  make  her  squall  out. 
They  shook  their  heads  and  observed  that  the 
creature  looked  as  if  she  saw  something  :  J3ob 
called  out  for  bidders,  but  his  customers  with 
true  Yankee  caution,  bid  slowly,  and  made  very 
low  offers  :  at  last,  however,  she  was  knocked 
off  to  a  credulous  bumpkin,  named  Giles  Elder- 
berry, for  six  dollars,  to  be  paid  in  corn  and  po- 
tatoes at  a  fair  price  the  next  fall.  Bob  deliver- 
ed him  the  hen,  and  took  Giles's  note  of  baud 
for  the  pay. 


216  BOB    LEE, 

Giles  took  his  purchase  home  in  great  glee, 
hugging  himself  with  the  prospect  of  having  a 
heap  of  silver  ere  many  days.  He  bestowed 
her  snugly  in  his  hencoop,  and  was  hardly  able 
to  shut  his  eyes  that  night,  by  thinking  of  the 
fortune  that  awaited  him.  Next  morning  he  ran 
to  the  nest,  but  was  disappointed  in  not  finding 
the  dollar.  He  waited  all  day  and  saw  the  night 
approach,  but  nothing  rewarded  his  patience. 
He  began  to  scratch  his  head,  but  presently  be- 
thought himself  that  it  was  Sunday,  and  the  hen 
being  orthodox  would  not  lay  till  the  next  day. 
So  he  went  to  bed  again  with  undiminished 
hopes.  But  Monday  came  and  there  was  no 
dollar  to  be  seen  :  he  cudgelled  his  brain  and 
suspected  there  might  be  witches  in  the  case  ; 
thereupon  he  nailed  a  horse-shoe  on  the  door  of 
the  hencoop  and  waited  another  day,  but  noth- 
ing came  of  it.  He  now  sat  down  upon  a  log 
of  wood,  and  fell  to  pondering  upon  the  matter 
with  all  his  might  ;  finally  another  thought 
struck  him,  and  he  imagined  a  nest-egg  might 
be  wanting.  Straightway  he  procured  a  dol- 
lar and  lodged  it  in  the  nest,  but  it  did  not 
bring  him  even  six  per  cent,  interest,  for  the 
next  day  there  was  a  dollar  and  no  more.  He 
tried  various  other  expedients  but  they  all 
failed    in    the    same   manner.      The   neighbors 


BOB    LEE.  217 

inquired  about  his  success,  but  he  informed  them 
that  the  hen  put  it  off  terribly.  He  consulted 
Bob  Lee  about  it,  and  got  only  a  bantering  an- 
swer and  a  hint  about  the  note  of  hand.  Giles 
was  not  to  be  bantered  out  of  his  belief,  but  laid 
the  .case  before  sundry  of  his  acquaintance  who 
were  notorious  for  their  credulity  in  all  marvel- 
lous affairs.  Most  of  them  gave  it  as  their  opin- 
ion that  the  hen  was  bewitched,  and  Giles  was 
already  inclined  to  the  same  belief :  his  only  so- 
licitude now  was  to  discover  some  means  of 
disenchantment. 

At  length  a  waggish  fellow  of  the  town,  who 
had  got  a  scent  of  the  affair,  meeting  Giles  one 
day,  informed  him  that  he  knew  of  a  scheme 
that  would  do  the  job  for  him.  Giles  begged 
earnestly  to  know  it  and  promised  as  a  recom- 
pense to  give  him  the  first  dollar  the  hen  should 
lay,  in  case  the  plan  succeeded,  "for  you  know," 
said  he,  "  it  is  a  fair  bargain,  no  cure,  no  pay." 
—  "You'll  find  that,  next  fall,"  replied  the 
fellow.  He  then  communicated  the  scheme,  by 
which  Giles  was  instructed  to  go  to  the  top  of 
Blueberry  Hill  the  next  morning  at  six  o'clock, 
mark  out  a  circle  on  the  ground,  set  up  a  tall 
pole  in  the  centre  with  the  hen  at  the  top  :  he 
was  then  to  walk  three  times  round  it,  heels 
foremost,  say  the  A  B  C  backwards,  sing  a  stave 
19 


218  BOB    LEE. 

of  Old  hundred,  cry  cock-a-doodle-doo,  and 
sneeze  three  times  —  all  which  he  was  assured 
would  break  the  spell. 

Giles  took  all  this  for  gospel,  and  the  next 
morning  he  was  on  the  spot  ready  prepared  at 
the  hour.  He  set  his  fowl  up  in  the  air  and 
went  to  work  with  the  incantation  ;  all  was  going 
on  prosperously  and  according  to  rule  :  he  had 
got  through  the  psalm  tune,  crowed  as  exactly 
like  an  old  rooster  as  one  could  wish,  and  was 
just  taking  a  thumping  pinch  of  Scotch  yellow 
to  enable  him  to  sneeze  with  more  effect,  when 
casting  his  eyes  aloft  he  descried  a  monstrous 
hen-hawk  upon  the  wing  in  the  act  of  making  a 
stoop  at  his  enchanted  fowl.  Giles  blurted  out 
a  tremendous  sternutation,  but  the  hawk  was  not 
to  be  sneezed  out  of  his  prey,  for  before  he 
could  rub  away  the  tears  which  this  explosion 
shook  into  his  eyes,  souse  came  the  hawk  upon 
the  hen,  and  both  were  out  of  sight  among  the 
woods  ! 

Giles  scratched  his  head  and  stared  with 
wonder,  but  they  never  came  back  to  givre  any 
account  of  themselves  :  he  is  certain  although, 
that  had  he  got  through  the  incantation  half  a 
minute  sooner,  the  hen  would  have  been  as  safe 
as  a  thief  in  a  mill.  I  have  heard  people  say 
that  he  has  still  some  expectation  of  their  return, 


BOB    LEE.  219 

but  I  believe  he  has  given  up  speculating  in 
poultry.  However,  the  memory  of  the  story 
remains  in  those  parts,  and  when  a  person  does 
anything  that  shows  uncommon  wisdom,  such  as 
discovering  that  the  Dutch  have  taken  Holland, 
or  that  asses  have  ears,  he  is  said  to  be  akin  ta 
the  witches,  like  Bob  Lee's  hem 


HORACE  IN  BOSTON. 

EPODON    OD.  II. 

Beautus  ille  qui  procul  negotiis. 

"  Happy  the  man,  escaped  from  town, 
Who  sits  in  rural  snuggery  down, 

And  takes  to  cultivation." 
Thus  Daniel  Discount  pondering  said, 
And  shook  his  calculating  head 

In  lonely  cogitation. 

"  Oh  !  would  it  were  my  only  care — 
A  turnip  patch  an  acre  square  ; 

A  corn-field  somewhat  wider  ; 
Ten  trees  that  rosy  apples  hring, 
The  large,  for  dumplings  just  the  thing ; 

The  smaller  crabs  for  cider. 

"  My  eye  !  but  't  is  a  glorious  dream ; — 
A  flock  of  sheep  ; — a  four-ox  team  ; 

Fit  for  domestic  labors  ; 
A  Byfield  pig  ;— a  mongrel  goose  ; — 
A  dapple  steed  for  private  use  ; — 

A  donkey  for  my  neighbors. 

"  Within  my  whitewashed  garden  wall 
I  '11  rear  me  kitchen  greens  of  all 

Choice  orders  and  conditions. 
Here  pumpkins  shall  bedeck  the  ground ; — 
There,  mighty  cabbage  heads,  as  sound 

As  many  a  politician's. 

"  String  b2ans  1  '11  raise,  of  many  a  class ; 
My  pease  in  flavor  shall  surpass 

All  gormandizing  wishes  ; 
And  onions  of  astounding  size 
Start  iron  tears  from  Pluto's  e3res, 

When  served  among  his  dishes. 


HORACE    IN    BOSTON.  221 

"  And  up  and  down  the  fields  I  '11  stray, 
Where  lambkins  frisk  the  livelong  day, 

And  pigs  and  poultry  squabble  ; 
Or  round  my  barn-yard  sauntering  go, 
To  hear  the  doughty  cockerels  crow, 

And  valiant  turkeys  gobble. 

"  And  then  my  dining-room  shall  be 
Under  a  shady  greenwood  tree;  — 

There  o'er  my  pewter  platter, 
While  I  courageously  fall  to, 
The  plaintive  turtle-dove  shall  coo, 

And  bob  o'links  shall  chatter. 

"  Give  me  a  plain  and  frugal  meal ;  — 
A  shin  of  beef,—  a  scrag  of  veal ; 

A  hoe-cake  like  a  squatter's. 
Some  little  kickshaw  stew  or  fry  ; 
A  gooseberry  snap ;  —  a  pumpkin  pie ;  — 

A  boiled  sheep's  head  and  trotters. 

"  Oh  for  that  dish  to  bumpkins  dear  ! 
Which  suits  all  seasons  of  the  year, 

Calm,  blustering,  bright  or  cloudy  ; 
I  doubt  what  learned  Thebans  call 
The  same,  but  Yankee  natives  all 

Have  christened  it  Pan-Doicdy* 

"  With  line  and  rod  of  cane-pole  stout, 
I  '11  tickle  many  a  simple  trout, 

Which  all  esteem  a  crack  fish  ; 
Along  the  streamlet's  sunny  side, 
I  '11  lay  me  down  perdue,  yet  wide 

Awake  as  any  blackfish. 


*  This  rustical  and  true  Yankee  dish  is?  not  now,  we  trow,  often 
seen  at  table  in  Boston,  should  any  citizen  be  ignorant  of  its  nature, 
we  beg  leave  to  inform  him,  on  the  authority  of  Dr  Dryasdust,  that 
it  is  a  prodigious  apple-pie,  with  a  brown  crust,  baked  in  a  deep  pan, 
■undcnome ■;.  Crust  and  contents  are  crushed  into  a  chaos  ;  and  when 
served  up  cold,  as  the  Doctor  says,  credit?  Pisoncs,  it  is  fit  for  an  Arch- 
duke. 

19* 


222  HORACE    IN    BOSTON. 

"  Notes,  bills,  deeds,  bonds  —  I  will  not  scan 
Those  daily  plagues  of  mortal  man 

My  eyes  no  more  shall  light  on. 
All  paltry  pelf  I  now  despise, 
To  bear  away  a  nobler  prize  — 

The  best  bull-calf  at  Brighton. 

"  No  whims  of  fashion  I  '11  obey, 
But  dress  in  homespun,  green  or  grey, 

Drab,  yellow,  dun  or  grizzle. 
No  more  John  Kuhn  &,  Co.  shall  strait 
Lace  up  these  limbs  ;  no  more  this  pale 

Shall  Bogue  &  Dudley  frizzle. 

"  Ah  !  busy  Boston's  bustling  sons  ! 
Beneath  blue-devils,  dust  and  duns, 

Forever  fagged  and  flustered, — 
A  long  adieu  !  and  so  good  bye, 
For  lo  !  I  5m  off —  as  said  the  fly, 

When  flitting  from  the  mustard." 

Thus  Daniel,  in  poetic  mood, 

Near  State  Street  corner,  pondering  stood, 

Of  passers-by  unheedful ;  — 
When  lo  !  up  steps  a  needy  knave ; 
Pops  in  his  hand  a  note  to  shave  : 

Great  premium  for  the  "  needful." 

He  lifts  his  head  —  he  stirs  bis  frame  — 
He  scans  the  sum  and  signer's  name, 

With  gestures  quite  alarming. 
His  air-built  casiles  disappear  ; 
Fifty  per  cent,  for  half  a  year 

Is  fatter  gain  than  farming. 

This,  in  a  trice,  dispelled  the  charm  ; 
Daniel  has  never  bought  his  farm, 

Nor  thinks  of  it,  that  I  know, 
And.  gentle  reader,  well  or  ill, 
The  hunks  will  cash  your  paper  still, 

When'er  you  lack  the -rhino. 


THE     DEAD    SET. 

WHEREIN    I    SPEAK    OF    MOST    DISASTROUS    CHANCES. 
BY    A   NERVOUS    MAN. 

The  clock  struck  two,  a  welcome  sound,  for 
it  was  the  dinner  hour.  Some  people  dine  at 
five  ;  let  them.  I  am  a  man  of  appetite,  and 
am  sharp-set  full  three  hours  sooner.  A  cool 
air  and  a  long  walk  in  the  forenoon  had  con- 
tributed in  fitting  me  to  enjoy  the  bounties  of 
Providence  with  particular  relish.  The  table 
already  smoked  under  a  load  of  savory  viands. 
The  flavor  that  reeked  upwards  from  a  dozen 
dishes  would  have  overpowered  in  genial  fra- 
grance, all  the  incense  ever  snuffed  by  a  Pagan 
divinity. 

As  I  moved  by  the  window,  my  eye  was 
caught  by  a  sign  newly  erected  on  the  oppo- 
side  side  of  the  street:  "  Ready-made  coffins 
for  sale  here  /"  Confusion  !  Was  ever  a  sight 
so  mal-apropos  ?  To  be  caught  just  at  the 
moment  of  dinner,  with  such  a  damper  to  the 
spirits  !  Was  the  thing  possible  ?  I  looked 
again.  It  was  no  illusion.  I  even  fancied 
I  could  see  the  horrid   receptacles   within  the 


224  THE   DEAD   SET. 

door.  A  cold  shivering  came  over  my  frame. 
I  rushed  to  the  table,  but  could  not  get  the 
direful  image  from  my  mind.  I  remembered 
that  I  had  a  fit  of  sickness  some  fifteen  years 
before  ;  and  "  what,"  thought  I,  "  if  I  should 
be  sick  again  !"  The  idea  made  me  a  little 
qualmish  at  the  first  start.  I  began  to  eat,  but 
alas  !  my  appetite  had  fled  —  I  could  not  tell 
how.  It  was  to  no  purpose  that  dish  after 
dish  was  set  before  me  ;  my  languid  palate 
refused  to  be  excited  by  all  the  condiments  of 
the  cooking  art ;  spices  were  no  longer  stimu- 
lating, nor  pickles  provocative.  Can  a  worse 
accident  happen,  the  longest  day  in  the  year, 
than  to  lose  one's  dinner  ?  Think  of  my 
vexation,  then,  to  be  baulked  at  the  very  thresh- 
old, and  by  such  a  provoking  occurrence. 

I  put  up  with  the  disappointment  as  philo- 
sophically as  I  was  able.  "  To-morrow," 
said  I  to  myself,  "  I  shall  get  over  it,  and  make 
amends  for  lost  time."  Never  was  fond  anti- 
cipation more  cruelly  falsified.  The  sight  of 
that  accursed  sign  had  lost  none  of  its  dire  po- 
tency. I  could  net  eat  my  dinner  !  Just  so 
the  next  day  and  the  next.  It  was  a  perpetu- 
al scarecrow  to  my  affrighted  appetite.  I 
never  could  look  out  of  the  window  without 
seeing  it ;  in  fact,  it  seemed  to   be  stereotyped 


THE   DEAD   SET.  225 

on  my  brain.  This  could  not  be  endured  long. 
I  began  to  grow  thin.  Horrid  !  I  was  thought 
of  for  an  alderman  not  six  months  before. 

So  I  changed  my  lodgings  ;  no  inconsider- 
able exertion  for  "  men  of  mould."  I  hate  to 
be  moving  about.  "  Make  them  like  unto  a 
wheel,"  I  always  regarded  as  the  bitterest 
curse  ever  uttered.  I  chose  a  different  part  of 
the  city,  and  took  care  never  to  wTalk  through 
the  street  I  had  quitted.  In  a  short  time  I  be- 
gan to  pick  up. 

I  had  not  quite  recovered  my  pristine  rotun- 
dity, when  I  was  awrakened  one  morning  just 
at  day-break,  (I  never  rise  before  ten.)  by  a 
violent  ringing  of  the  door-bell.  In  less  than 
a  minute  the  house-maid  burst  into  the  room 
with  u  Sir,  Doctor  Burdock  has  come  to  see 
you."  "  A  murrain  confound  Doctor  Bur- 
dock," said  I,  "what  is  the  quack  after  here  ?" 
My  reply  was  unattended  to  by  the  maid,  who 
instantly  popped  out  and  introduced  the  Doc- 
tor, a  cadaverous  looking  caitiff,  attended  by  a 
couple  of  fellows  —  young  beginners,  I  sup- 
pose, in  the  art  of  killing.  u  Ah  !"  exclaimed 
he,  "  lucky  we  found  you  so  quick  —  called 
at  three  houses  in  this  street  before  we  came 
to  the  right  one,  —  some  alteration  made  in 
the  numbers  last  week.     But  I  must  proceed 


226  THE   DEAD  SET. 

to  work  immediately  —  hope  you  sent  for  me 
the  moment  you  felt  the  first  symptoms." 
My  astonishment  at  this  unexpected  intrusion 
prevented  me  from  uttering  a  word  for  a  few 
moments  ;  but  at  length  I  asked, 

"  What  is  your  business  here  ?" 

"  My  dear  sir,"  he  replied,  "I  cannot  stop 
to  describe  to  you  the  whole  extent  of  my 
practice  in  the  city,  because  you  might  die 
in  the  mean  time,  you  know.  How  long  ago 
did  you  swallow  the  poison  ?" 

"  Sir,"  said  I,  "  you  are  altogether  mista- 
ken, I  have  swallowed  no  poison,  nor " 

"  Nonsense  —  it  is  idle  to  say  that  saltpetre 
is  not  poison  ;  a  whole  ounce  at  a  time. 
Terrible  burning  pain  in  the  stomach,  you 
say.     Warm  water,  girl,  immediately." 

"  I  tell  you,  Doctor,  you  have  called  at  the 


"  Fiddlestick  —  no  matter  whether  I  call  it 
by  the  wrong  name  or  not  ;  poison  is  poison, 
call  it  what  you  will.  I  must  apply  the 
stomach  pump  immediately." 

"  Get  out  of  the  house,  blockhead  ;  I  '11 
have  none  of  your  infernal  machines  thrust 
down    my   throat.     I  tell   you   again,  I  am  not 


"Ah,  what   an    obstinate   man  !  —  and  just 


THE   DEAD   SET.  227 

on  the  brink  of  the  grave,  perhaps.  Some 
people  will  have  their  way,  though  they  die  for 
it.      But  we  cannot  wait." 

"Go  to  the " 

"  Bless  me  !  he  begins  to  rave  !  —  See  how 
his  eyes  roll.  'Tis  the  effect  of  the  poison. 
Quick  !  quick  !  seize  him  by  the  arms  —  hold 
his  mouth  open.  Poor  man  !  I  fear  it  is  all  over 
with  him  !  " 

My  condition  was  now  desperate.  I  was 
already  in  their  clutches  ;  but  despair  gave 
me  strength.  I  lent  the  doctoi  a  punch  in  the 
ribs  with  all  the  force  I  could  exert,  which 
threw  him  over  backwards  ;  and  in  falling? 
luckily  for  me,  he  knocked  down  one  of  his 
assistants.  Ere  they  had  a  moment's  time 
to  pick  themselves  up,  I  attacked  the  third, 
and  pitched  him  out  of  the  room.  Then  re- 
turning to  the  two  fallen  heroes,  I  succeeded 
in  trundling  them  through  the  door-way  on 
all  fours.  I  then  clapped  the  door  to,  and 
locked  it  in  an  instant.  For  a  moment  I  im- 
agined myself  in  safety,  but  presently  over- 
heard them  speak  of  fetching  a  crow-bar,  and 
bursting  open  the  door  "to  save  the  poor 
creature's  life,'"  as  they  compassionately  add- 
ed.    Not   an    instant   was  to  be  lost.     I   hur~ 


224  THE   DEAD   SET. 

ried  on  a  few  clothes,  stripped  the  bed  to 
make  a  rope  ladder,  fastened  it  to  the  window, 
slipped  out  silently,  and  glided  into  the  street. 
I  ran  through  the  first  narrow  lane  I  came  to, 
without  looking  behind  me,  scampered  up 
one  alley  and  down  another,  and  did  not  think 
myself  out  of  danger  till  I  was  entirely  out  of 
breath. 

What  became  of  Dr  Burdock  I  cannot  say, 
for  I  felt  too  great  a  horror  at  the  danger  I 
had  escaped,  ever  to  go  near  the  scene  after- 
ward. I  took  new  lodgings,  and  began  to  re- 
cover from  the  effects  of  the  catastrophe. 
There  is  nothing  like  a  sudden  fright  for  tak- 
ing down  a  man's  flesh.  However,  for  a 
long  while,  I  could  not  hear  the  door-bell 
ring  of  a  morning,  without  being  thrown  into 
a  cold  sweat ;  and  if  ever  the  nightmare  as- 
sailed me,  it  was  sure  to  come  in  the  shape  of 
a  stomach  pump,  with  a  nozzle  as  big  as  the 
boiler  of  a  steamboat,  sticking  fast  in  my 
windpipe.  After  a  time,  I  recovered  some 
serenity  of  mind,  and  was  master  of  a  tol- 
erable appetite.  Ah  !  with  what  disconso- 
late regrets  did  I  look  back  upon  the  golden 
days  of  good  eating  !  when  the  peaceful  calm 
of  my   mind  resembled  an  unruffled    ocean   of 


THE   DEAD   SET.  229 

turtle  soup,  and  each  happy  year  glided 
round  with  as  noiseless  and  undisturbed  a 
uniformity  as  a  fat  goose  revolves  on  the 
spit  ! 

One  day  I  was  interrupted  in  the  midst  of 
my  dinner,  —  I  think  I  had  not  felt  so  good 
an  appetite  for  many  a  month.  I  had  been 
but  an  hour  and  a  half  at  table,  and  several 
courses  remained  to  come  on.  I  was  told 
there  were  persons  at  the  door  desiring  to 
speak  with  me.  "  Particularly  engaged,"  said 
I.  —  "  But  they  are  come  on  very  urgent  busi- 
ness, and  must  be  attended  to,"  said  the  ser- 
vant—  and  I  observed  a  strangely  mysterious 
expression  of  face  with  which  this  was  uttered. 
I  hurried  to  the  door,  hardly  knowing  why. 
No  man  in  his  senses  surely,  ever  would  have 
left  his  dinner  for  such  a  thing.  But  let  that 
pass.  There  was  a  fatality  about  it.  At  the 
door  I  was  met  by  four  men  bearing  on  their 
shoulders  a  coffin  !  I  was  horror-struck  ;  all 
the  terrific  forebodings  and  frightful  images 
which  had  haunted  my  imagination  from  the 
beginning,  returned  with  tenfold  blackness.  My 
hair  rose  on  end.  I  stood  aghast,  rooted  to  the 
ground,  and  had  no  power  to  move  ! 

"  Are  you  Mr  Brown  ?  "   asked  one  of  the 
spectres. 

20 


230  THE  DEAD   SET. 

"  I  am,"  replied  I.  (John  Brown,  good 
reader  is  my  unfortunate  name.) 

"Here  is  the  coffin  we  have  made  for  you. 
We  have  worked  upon  it  with  all  possible  des- 
patch, because  we  knew  you  would  want  it  im- 
mediately." 

"  But  I  have  no  particular  desire  to  be  bu- 
ried," said  I,  trembling,  and  unable  to  stand 
without  leaning  against  the  wall. 

"That  is  neither  here  nor  there,"  they  re- 
plied. "Our  business  is  to  bring  it  to  this 
place  for  Mr  Brown,  who  is  to  be  buried  to-day. 
You  are  the  man." 

"But  I  am  not  dead,  nor  likely  to  die.  I 
have  just  eaten  a  hearty  dinner — that  is,  I 
have  begun   to   eat  it.     You  surely  won't  put 

me   in    the ."     I    could   utter   no    more  ; 

fright  absolutely  took  away  the  power  of 
speech. 

"  Why  not  ?  "  returned  they,  with  certain 
significant  winkings.  "  We  are  accustomed 
to  despatch  our  business  and  ask  no  ques- 
tions." 

It  was  plain  now  that  there  was  a  conspi- 
racy to  bury  me  alive.  What  could  be  done  ? 
If  I  retreated  into  the  house,  I  could  hope  for 
no  protection  from  the  inmates,  who  were 
doubtless   in  the  plot.     How  otherwise   would 


THE  DEAD   SET.  231 

a  coffin  have  been  brought  to  the  door  ?  There 
was  no  resource  but  to  cut  and  run.  I  pushed 
through  the  entry,  knocking  down  two  of  the 
conspirators  as  I  sprang  out  of  the  door,  and 
took  to  my  heels  without  a  hat.  Turning  a 
corner,  and  losing  sight  of  my  pursuers,  I  came 
upon  a  hack  standing  in  the  street,  with  the  door 
open.  I  sprang  in  without  a  moment's  thought, 
glad  of  any  means  of  escape.  The  hackman, 
thinking  me  to  be  the  person  he  had  been  wait- 
ing for,  shut  the  door,  mounted  the  box,  and 
drove  on. 

The  fatigue  I  had  suffered  in  running,  threw 
me  into  a  slumber.  At  last  I  was  awakened  and 
told  I  had  reached  the  place.  On  alighting  I 
found  myself  in  a  yard,  from  which  I  was  con- 
ducted into  a  spacious  building,  which  I  took  for 
a  tavern.  I  imagined  myself  at  some  distance 
from  the  city,  and  congratulated  myself  on  my 
escape  from  it.  Unlucky  wretch  !  —  1  was  at  that 
moment  in  the  Massachusetts  General  Hospital  ! 

In  a  few  moments  I  found  myself  surrounded 
by  numerous  members  of  the  faculty.  "  This 
patient,"  said  the  principal  surgeon,  taking  my 
head  between  his  hands,  "  is  afflicted  with  a 
paralysis  of  the  lower  jaw  —  be  so  good  as  to 
open  your  mouth."  I  shook  my  head,  strug- 
gling to  get  free,  but  he  held  on  the  faster.   "  We 


232  THE  DEAD   SET. 

shall  now  proceed  to  exhibit  some  electrical  ex- 
periments upon  him,  which  I  am  strongly  of 
opinion  will  be  attended  with  beneficial  results  ; 
the  worst  that  may  happen  is,  that  they  may 
knock  out  his  grinders,  and  loosen  some  of  his 
front  teeth." 

These  horrible  words  sounded  in  my  ears  like 
a  death-knell.  I  could  not  speak  ;  for  the  sci- 
entific operator  had  distended  my  jaws  to  the 
utmost  stretch  with  a  wooden  gag,  which  I  in 
vain  attempted  to  force  out.  My  hands  were 
secured,  and  I  was  held  fast  in  my  seat  by  the 
doctors,  who  all  crowded  round  me.  "It  would 
be  such  a  beautiful  experiment,"  said  they. 
Was  ever  any  destiny  like  mine  ?  Driven  half 
to  distraction  by  ready-made  coffins  on  one  day 
—  attacked  by  a  stomach-pump  on  another  — 
within  a  hair's  breadth  of  being  buried  alive  on 
the  next,  and  now  the  grinders  about  to  be  blown 
out  of  my  jaws  by  a  broadside  from  an  electri- 
cal battery  ! 

"  Verily,"  thought  I,  "  this  is  destined  to  be 
the  last  day  of  my  life  ;  "  an  army  of  doctors 
are  upon  me,  armed  with  all  sorts  of  blood-thirs- 
ty weapons.  Death  or  dislocation  will  most  as- 
suredly be  my  lot."  I  grew  as  pale  as  a  sheet  : 
the  perspiration  stood  in  large  drops  upon  my 
face.     I  began  to  bellow  like  a  bull  of  Bashan, 


THE  DEAD  SET.  233 

and  struggle  and  kick  with  all  vengeance.  Noth- 
ing seemed  likely  to  avail  me,  and  the  machine 
approached  that  was  to  disable  my  powers  of 
mastication  forever,  when  all  at  once,  the  back 
of  the  chair  gave  way,  and  a  dozen  of  us  wrere 
sprawling  on  the  floor  in  an  instant.  With  the 
quickness  of  lightning  I  sprang  to  the  door,  cleared 
every  passage  to  the  street,  knocking  down  all 
that  came  in  my  way,  and  throwing  chairs  and 
tables  behind  me  to  encumber  the  passage  for 
my  pursuers.  On  gaining  the  street,  I  continued 
running,  determined  to  escape  from  the  city  as 
quick  as  possible.  I  directed  my  course  to- 
wards West  Boston  bridge,  but  just  as  I  set  my 
foot  upon  it,  the  draw  was  hoisted  for  the  pas- 
sage of  a  sloop.  I  turned  about  and  ran  to  the 
Western  Avenue.  I  had  proceeded  a  quarter 
of  a  mile  upon  it  when  I  was  stopped  by  the 
sight  of  a  strange  looking  carriage  approaching 
me  !     It  was  a  hearse  ! 

"  Then  came  my  fit  again  !  "  I  could  no  more 
have  endured  to  encounter  it,  than  I  could  have 
faced  a  hungry  tiger.  Most  assuredly  had  I  ap- 
proached it,  I  should  have  been  seized  and  car- 
ried off ;  for  so  my  terrified  imagination  whisper- 
ed me.  Again  I  turned  and  ran  back.  After 
passing  through  several  streets,  my  terror  a  lit- 
tle subsided  ;  I  felt  a  gnawing  hunger  ;  —  think 
20  * 


234  THE   DEAD   SET. 

of  an  unfinished  dinner,  and  the  galopades  I 
had  practised  !  It  was  now  evening,  and  I  en- 
tered a  tavern.  I  ordered  a  supper,  and  while 
it  was  getting  ready,  attempted  to  divert  my  mind 
from  the  harrowing  thoughts  that  occupied  it, 
by  reading  the  various  bills  with  which  bar- 
rooms are  generally  ornamented.  But  woful  at- 
empt  !  the  first  that  met  my  eye  was  a  staring 
sheet,  headed  with  an  enormous  black  coffin,  and 
the  title  of  uAn  Elegy  on  the  Death  of  Mr 
John  Brown,  icho  committed  suicide  under  men- 
tal derangement  occasioned  by  a  scolding  wife, 
etc."  In  a  paroxysm  of  horror  and  vexation,  I 
:ore  the  sheet  to  atoms,  and  rushed  into  the 
street.  All  human  things  seemed  combined  to 
drive  me  mad.  It  was  raining  cats  and  dogs. 
"  I  '11  drown  myself,"  said  I,  "  and  make  an 
end  of  it."  I  cannot  say  I  was  quite  serious 
in  the  resolution,  but  I  ran  towards  the  wharf, 
determined  at  least  to  devise  some  means  of  es- 
caping from  the  city  by  water.  But  how  idle  to 
struggle  against  the  decrees  of  fate  !  Passing 
through  Broad  Street,  I  stumbled  into  a  cellar 
among  a  troop  of  Irishmen,  who  were  holding  a 
wake  over  the  dead  body  of  one  of  their  coun- 
trymen. I  lost  my  senses  by  the  fall  ;  and  the 
Paddies  having  settled  the  matter  that  I  was  kilt, 
resolved  to  bury  us  both  together,  in  order  to 
save  time. 


"An  army  of  doctors  or?  W<?n 


THE  DEAD   SET.  235 

I  know  not  how  it  happened,  but  when  I  came 
to  myself  I  was  scampering  off  at  full  speed 
with  the  whole  troop  in  pursuit,  calling  out  to 
me  to  come  back  and  be  buried  "  dacently  like 
a  jantleman."  The  upshot  of  it  was  that  I  fell 
into  the  dock. 

The  Humane  Society  must  tell  the  rest.  I 
am  still  alive  and  have  not  been  buried,  though 
I  consider  it  a  downright  impossibility  to  avoid 
the  catastrophe  much  longer.  I  now  feel  dis- 
posed to  take  the  matter  into  my  own  hands,  and 
fairly  to  entomb  myself  for  some  short  and  safe 
space  of  time,  hoping  this  may  break  the  spell. 
Reader,  have  pity  on  me.  Six  months  ago  I 
quite  filled  a  capacious  easy  chair,  and  now  you 
might  truss  me  into  an  eel-skin.  The  Three 
Perils  of  Man  have  long  been  notorious  ;  but 
there  are  two  others  that  might  make  the  number 
five  —  A  Deputy  Sheriff,  and  a  Dead  Set. 


HORACE  IN   BOSTON. 


LIB.    II.      OD.    XVI. 


Otium  divos  rogiit  in  patenti. 


Oh,  man  in  t]*e  moon  !  can  you  tell  how  it  comes 

That  the  town  is  all  bustle  and  riot  ? 
When  your  miserly  hunks  with  his  measureless  sums, 
And  the  twopenny  trader  that  picks  up  his  crumbs, 

All  sigh  for  contentment  and  quiet. 

"  Content/'  they  ding-dong  like  the  chimes  of  the  clock, 

"  Content,"  cry  the  brisk  and  the  lazy ; 
Even  babbling  urchins  these  syllables  mock, 
And  Paddy  O'Splutter  that  digs  in  the  dock, 

Keeps  singing,   '•  Oh  let  us  be  asy." 

'T  is  a  phantom  you  study  in  vain  to  entrap ; 

It  comes  not  by  favor  like  kissing  ; 
When  lost,  the  town  crier  can't  mend  your  mishap, 
Though  he  '11  ferret  your  reverence  out,  in  a  snap, 

All  the  children  you  ever  had  missing. 

No  witchcraft  can  keep  the  blue -devils  at  bay ; 

You  may  skulk, — but  the  spectres  will  find  ye. 
There  's  an  imp  at  your  elbow  wherever  you  stray  : 
You  may  saddle  your  nag,  and  go  dashing  *way — 

There  's  the  hypo  a-straddle  behind  ye. 

In  vain  will  you  traverse  the  globe  to  repair 

A  temper  that  crooked  and  crank  is. 
John  Randolph,  abroad  for  a  change  of  the  air, 
Played  as  crazy  a  prank  to  the  Muscovite  bear 

As  ever  he  played  to  the  Yankees. 


HORACE    IN    BOSTON.  237 

Perhaps  you  are  sighing  a  statesman  to  shine, 

An  office  you  think  is  so  rare  O ; 
When  mounted  as  high  as  you  wish,  I  opine 
You  '11  have  just  as  much  comfort,  sweet  master  of  mine, 

As  the  toad  that  gets  under  a  harrow. 

Bravely  strutting  aloft,  rn  this  day  ye  may  be, 

On  the  next,  down  in  dust  ye  are  humble ; 
Then  scour  your  breast  from  cupidity  free, 
And  remember,  the  higher  you  clamber  the  tree, 

You  've  the  heavier  bang  when  you  tumble. 

Few  and  short  are  the  naps  of  a  king ;  while  the  clown 

All  the  night  in  security  dozes; 
A  cushion  of  state  has  not  much  of  the  down, 
And  Martin  Van  Buren  I  '11  bet  you  a  crown, 

Does  not  loll  on  a  litter  of  roses. 

See  the  Guelphs  of  Old  England  in  desperate  fear ; 

See  the  props  of  nobility  shaken  ; 
John  Bull  has  jounced  many  a  notable  peer ; 
And  Wellington,  late,  with  a  mob  in  his  rear, 

Was  lucky  in  saving  his  bacon. 

See  the  Dey  of  Algiers  bid  his  cut-throats  adieu, 

And  lose  all  his  wives  and  his  treasure  ; 
And  sad  Louis  Philippe  most  dismally  rue 
The  day  that  King  Charles  march'd  away  from  St.  Cloud 

A  little  too  quick  for  his  pleasure. 

Great  Achilles,  at  last  was  tripped  up  by  the  heel ; 

Belisarius  begged  on  his  knees  ;  and 
Had  Cicrro  smothered  his  speech-making  zeal 
Within  little  Arpinum,  the  ruffian  steel 

Would  not  have  been  stuck  in  his  weasand. 

And  a  much  longer  tale  I  could  spin  ye  —  b;!t  why 

Should  I  tell  about  Pompeys  and  Catos  ? 
Even  crackskull  Emmons,  on  hogshead  high, 

.oks  his  pate  in  a  trice,  when  the  rabble  let  fly 
>ead  cats  and  rotten  potatoes. 


238  HORACE    IN    BOSTON. 

Though  fortune  may  lead  you  a  few  lucky  jumps-. 

Yet  she  's  a  vile  termagrant,  mark  ye  ; 
She  visits  her  great  ones  with  buffets  and  thumps  j 
I  '11  warrant  my  shoe-black  has  fits  of  the  dumps, 
Because  he  's  a  gentleman  darkey. 

Then  why  shonld  I  nourish  ambition  and  pride, 

Or  go  mad  after  glory  and  riches  ? 
I  can  plod  through  the  world,  be  it  ever  so  wide  ; 
Only  give  me  two  things  —  I  ask  nothing  beside  — 

A  light  heart  and  a  thin  pair  of  breeches. 

Grim  Death  has  clutched  Byron  away  in  his  prime} 

And  made  great  Napoleon  knuckle ; 
I  suspect  I  am  only  reprieved  for  a  time, 
Because  I  can  hammer  a  doggerel  rhyme, 
And  make  the  citizens  chuckle. 

Then  long  may  the  city  and  commonwealth  thrivs,, 

And  though  I  'm  in  debt,  I  don't  care  if 
The  limbs  of  the  law  take  this  body  alivet 
I  've  a  snug  sky-parlor  in  Ward  No.  5  j 
So  a  fig  for  the  Deputy  Sheriff, 


THE  TWO  MOSCHETOES. 

A  DRAMATIC    SKETCH, 

Scene.     State  Street.    Enter  Tfcklenose  and  Buz zolio.     They 
alight  over  the  door  of  the  Union  Bankt 

*■ 

Tick.  Good  day,  Buzzy.  Fitfe  hot  weath- 
er for  young  pungents.  How  is  the  sharp  end  of 
your  nose  ? 

Buz.  Pretty  considerably  'cute  friend  Tic- 
kle. What  brings  you  from  Dorchester  flats  to- 
day ? 

Tick.  The  spirit  of  inquiry  and  a  southerly 
breeze.     When  did  you  come  to  town  ? 

Buz.  Three  days  ago.  —  What  are  they 
humming  about  on  the  flats  ? 

Tick.  Nothing  particularly  bloody  :  the  Dor- 
chester farmers  are  as  dry  as  hay.  Where  is  lit- 
tle Tinglechin  and  old  Scratchear  ? 

Buz.  Tingle,  the  little  dunce,  has  broken 
the  tip  of  his  nose  short  off,  trying  to  harpoon 
the  face  of  a  Kilby  Street  auctioneer  :  he  is  now 
on  the  top  of  a  chimney  over  the  Post  Office, 
grinding  it  sharp  again. 

Tick.  Let  him  live  and  learn.  Scratchear 
knows  a  trick  worth  two  of  that. 


240  THE  TWO  MOSCHETOES, 

Buz.  Yes.  I  just  left  him  making  a  dig  at 
an  alderman's  nose.  Tickle,  where  do  you 
hang  out  when  you  come  to  town  ? 

Tick.      State  Street  always. 

Buz.     Why  so  ? 

Tick.  Because  I  love  to  see  men  in  a 
swarm  ; —  and  then  the  people  here  are  so  much 
like  moschetoes,  they  remind  me  of  home. 

Buz.  Right,  Tickle,  they  are  always  in  a 
hum. 

Tick.  Yes,  Buzzy,  and  they  sting  as  sharp 
as  any  moschetoes.  There  's  only  this  differ- 
ence ;  they  sting  one  another  ;  —  we  don't. 

Buz.  That  's  a  fact,  friend  Ticklenose.  I 
know  something  about  them.  Three  days  that 
I  have  spent  in  town,  have  given  me  a  world  of 
experience.  I  have  scratched  the  phizzes  of  all 
you  see  in  the  street  here. 

Tick.  Who  is  that  sharky  looking  fellow 
coming  toward  the  door  ? 

Buz.  That  is  Joe  Crimp,  the  money  lend- 
er. See  —  he  has  got  a  pigeon  to  pluck.  How 
the  corners  of  his  mouth  twist  upward  !  Ten 
per  cent,  a  month,  I  '11  bet  my  hind  claws  :  — 
nothing  else  could  raise  such  a  grin.  There  's 
compound  interest  in  the  twinkle  of  his  eye. 

Tick.  Lucky  dog!  money-making  must  have 
a  charm  indeed  !     If  I  were  not  a  moscheto,  I 


THE   TWO   MOSCHETOES.  241 

should  of  all  things  like  to  be  a  money-lender 
and  haunt  State  Street. 

Buz.  Ha  !  ha  !  how  raw  you  are  !  Lucky 
dog  indeed  !  Strike  me  pug-nosed  !  but  I  would 
rather  be  a  dog  outright,  for  a  dog  can  gnaw  his 
bone  in  comfort,  which  is  more  than  you  can  say 
of  a  note-shaver.  What  do  you  think,  Tickle, 
my  wise  one  ?  I  lodged  at  this  same  man's 
house  last  night  :  how  do  you  think  he  slept  ? 

Tick.     Dreaming  of  money-bags,  hey  ? 

Buz.  The  first  half  hour  he  was  ridden  by 
the  nightmare  in  the  shape  of  the  Chelsea  Bank  : 
he  puffed  and  groaned  till  I  thought  he  would 
suffocate.  I  could  not  help  pitying  his  condi- 
tion, and  so  I  gave  him  a  smart  punch  under  the 
left  eye.  He  sprang  up  half  awake  and  half- 
choking,  and  cried  out,  "  Help  !  help  !  help  ! 
the  post  notes  are  sticking  in  my  throat  !  they 
won't  pass  up  nor  down  !  draw  them  out  with  a 
long  discount  !  help  !  help  !"  After  gasping  some 
time,  he  came  to  himself  and  went  to  sleep  again, 
but  it  was  only  to  dream  that  he  was  in  the  in- 
fernal regions,  where  Beelzebub  had  set  him  to 
skinning  flints,  squeezing  blood  out  of  turnips, 
and  other  occupations  which  he  had  learned  in 
this  world.  By  and  bye,  he  imagined  that  his  face 
was  chained  to  the  edge  of  a  grindstone  which  a 
score  of  imps  were  turning  swifter  than  the  fly- 
21 


242  THE    TWO    MOSCHETOES, 

wheel  of  a  steam  engine,  and  crying  out  "  How 
do  you  like  it  ?  How  do  you  like  it  ?  This  is 
the  sport  for  a  money-broker  !"  At  the  same 
moment  I  gave  a  loud  buzz  in  his  right  ear,  and 
he  sprang  awake  in  an  agony  of  fright,  exclaim- 
ing, "Xinetyeight  per  cent,  below  par!  0! 
malleable  iron  !" 

Tick.  Ha  !  ha  !  ha !  a  pleasant  night's 
sleep.  But  it  's  only  a  nervous  affection,  and 
he  '11  get  over  it. 

Buz.     Yes,  when  he  hangs  himself. 

Tick.  What  fat  chuff  is  that  going  into  the 
Salamander  Insurance  Office  ? 

Buz.  That  is  old  Skid,  the  grocer  of  Long 
yS  barf;  he  's  going  to  his  morning  rendezvous  to 
pick  up  his  daily  quantum  of  State  Street  scan- 
dal. 0  Ticklenose  !  my  pungent  little  friend  I 
these  insurance  offices  are  such  places ! — You  Ve 
no  idea  ! 

Tick.  What  —  Buzzy  ?  I  don  't  understand 
you. 

Buz.  [  Clapping  the  thumb  of  his  right  claic  to 
the  side  of  his  nose.']  Spirit  of  inquiry,  Tickle, 
hey  !  my  sharp  one  ! 

Tick.      Stocks  and    exchange  —  Oh  I  take. 

Buz.  Pooh!  how  green  you  are!  No  Tickle, 
scandal,  scandal,  scandal  ! 

Tick.  Heyday  !  what,  these  old  grave  cur- 
mudgeons ? 


THE    TWO    MOSCHETOES.  243 

Buz.  As  I  am  a  true  mocheto,  Tickle, 
these  insurance  offices  are  the  greatest  reposito- 
ries of  that  commodity  on  the  face  of  the  earth. 

Tick.  You  don  't  say  so  !  [Holds  up  both 
his  fore-claws  in  amazement.] 
.  Buz.  They  talk  of  the  scandal  of  old  maids, 
but  the  scandal  of  an  insurance  office  beats  it  all 
to  sticks.  What  do  you  think  these  grave  cur- 
mudgeons do  but  demolish  reputation,  manufac- 
ture rumors,  pick  holes  in  characters  and  rip  up 
old  stories  ? 

Tick.  Scandalous  !  scandalous  !  —  Could  n't 
we  get  a  chance  to  witness  something  of  the 
kind,  Buzzy  ! 

Buz.  That  is  easy  enough,  friend  Tickle, 
but  it  is  sad  to  see  how  men  are  given  so  slan- 
der. 

Tick.  No  doubt  of  it,  Buzzy,  but  mosehe- 
toes  can't  help  that,  and  as  the  old  lady  said, 
"  If  the  house  is  going  to  burn  down,  I  want  to 
see  it." 

Buz.  You  are  an  inquisitive  insect,  I  per- 
ceive. Let  us  flit  then,  I  see  a  knot  of  these 
chaps  in  the  Salamander.  Snap  your  wings  and 
follow  me. 

[Scene  changes  to  the  Salamander  Insurance  Office.'] 

Buz.     Here  we  are,  Ticklenose,  and  here 


244  THE    TWO    MOSCHETOES. 

are  our  heroes,  Skid  the  grocer,  Hyde  the  tallow 
chandler,  Lump  the  sugar  baker,  Fogg  the  land 
speculator,  Twist  the  attorney,  Blackball  the 
bank  director,  Shirk  the  underwriter,  Slump  the 
stockbroker,  Pinch,  Nippum,  Snap  and  Gouge 
the  money  lenders  —  a  precious  lot ! — but  hear 
them  talk. 

Fogg.  [Folding  up  a  paper  and  placing  it 
in  his  pocket  book.']  A  good  spec,  Nippum,  a 
very  good  spec.  I  've  got  Foster  to  manage  it. 
I  can  depend  upon  Foster  —  Foster  is  an  hon- 
est man. 

Nip.     An  honest  man  —  but  —  watch  him  f 

Fogg.  Let  me  alone  for  that.  I  've  had 
enough  to  do  with  fellows  like  him  to  know  'em 
all.  Ugh  !  ugh  !  [Coughing.]  Hard  to  trust 
anybody  nowadays. 

Slump.  There  is  old  Simon  Swiggs  going 
down  street.  He  carries  a  pretty  good  face  ; 
look  at  him. 

Shirk.  I  guess  he  lives  up  to  the  mark  !  — 
wonder  what  it  costs  him  a  year.  That  face  of 
his  don't  look  like  cold  water.  Ha  !  ha  !  ha  ! 
[Laughs.] 

Blackball.  What  is  this  story  about  Tim 
Tenpenny  ?  I  've  an  idea  it 's  rather  a  black  af- 
fair. 

Gouge.     Why,  between  you  and  me  and  the 


THE    TWO    MOSCHETOES.  245 

post,  I  guess  Tim  has  got  himself  into  a  bad 
scrape  :  — but  some  folks  can  hush  these  things 
up.  I  don't  see  through  it  :  however,  the  old 
man  had  to  pay  up,  I  guess. 

Twist.  I  know  a  long  story  about  him  —  I 
say  nothing,  but  if  I  chose  to  tell  —  no  matter 
—  things  may  come  out  some  time  or  other. 
This  is  a  cursed  rascally  world  —  that  's  all  I 
can  say. 

Lump.  I  wonder  Fogg,  how  your  neighbor 
Winkle  gets  along  :  won't  he  kick  the  bucket 
soon  ? 

Fogg.  Don't  know :  but  he  lives  high 
enough. 

Lump.     Guess  he  '11  cut  up  pretty  well,  hey  ! 

Fogg.  Not  so  certain,  — rather  think  he  was 
pretty  deep  in  Mississippi  stock. 

Hyde.  People  live  confounded  high  nowa- 
days —  I  don't  see  how  they  stand  it.  Egad, 
my  butcher's  bill  frightens  me  every  time  it 
comes  in. 

Skid.  I  '11  tell  ye  what  :  I  went  down  into 
my  kitchen  yesterday,  and  I  cut  my  dinner 
down  three  dishes.  "There,"  says  I,  "  if  a 
man  can't  live  upon  that,  he  ought  to  starve." 
Confound  it.  There  's  Joe  Snatchcopper  owes 
me  six  thousand  dollars  —  I  shall  never  get  it. 
The  fellow  lives  like  a  nabob — and  all  upon  my 
21  * 


246  THE  TWO    MOSCHETOES. 

money.  Never  look  at  him  without  seeing  roast 
chickens  in  his  face,  and  thinking  I  had  to  pay 
for  'em  !     Ugh  !  ugh  !  ugh  !     [Coughs.] 

Fogg.  Bad  cough,  that  of  yours,  neighbor 
Skid. 

Skid.  Nothing  at  all,  — just  a  little  phthis- 
icky  touch  I  've  had  for  thirty  year  or  so,  but 
it 's  going  off,  I  find. 

Twist.  Ay,  no  doubt  of  that  ;  my  old  grand- 
father's cough  went  off  just  so  ;  —  but  it  hap- 
pened that  the  old  man  went  off  with  it. 

Skid.  You  don't  say  so  !  [Somewhat 
alarmed.]  Really  I  never  was  in  better  health 
in  my  life  :  —  such  an  appetite  as  I  have  !  Yes- 
terday I  ate  a  dinner  !  —  I  won't  say  what,  but 
if  the  turkey  and  chicken  and  duck  and  pudding 
and  pie  did  n't  suffer,  there  's  none  of  me,  — 
that 's  all  ! 

Pinch.  And  that  is  what  you  call  cutting 
your  dinner  down,  and  living  on  short  commons  ? 
[A  laugh.] 

Skid.  Come,  now,  friend  Pinch,  what  do 
you  understand  by  "total  abstinence." 

Pinch.  Not  to  drink  so  fast  as  to  choke 
yourself. 

Skid.  [Laughing.]  Hoh!  hoh  !  hoh  ! 
Ugh  !  ugh  !  [coughs.]  That 's  just  what  I 
should  expect  of  a  tee-totaller.     Now,  Pinch 


THE    TWO   MOSCHETOES.  247 

you  are  a' very  devout  man,  and  go  to  church 
regularly.  What  do  ministers  preach  nowa- 
days ? 

Pinch.  Why,  as  old  Deacon  Sly  observed 
the  other  day,  —  "  In  old  times,  ministers  used 
to  preach  the  gospel,  but  nowadays  they  preach 
nothing  but  rum  and  niggers." 

Skid.  [Laughing.]  Hoh  !  hoh  !  hoh  !  Ex- 
cellent !  excellent !  and  true  as  the  book  into 
the  bargain.  But  who  is  that  fellow  at  the  cor- 
ner, Mr  Snap  ? 

Snap.  Oh  !  that 's  an  acquaintance  of  my 
family  ;  —  his  name  is  Snake. 

Pinch.  Ah,  —  I  understand,  —  he  is  to  mar- 
ry your  daughter  ;  an't  it  so,  Mr  Snap. 

Snap.  May  turn  out  so  ;  —  however,  I  guess 
he  don't  borrow  any  more  money  of  me  very 
soon. 

Pinch.  How  so  ?  —  You  'd  lend  him,  would 
n't  you  ? 

Snap.  I  '11  tell  you  how  it  is.  It 's  all  settled 
you  see,  that  he  's  to  have  my  daughter  ;  —  tol- 
erable match;  —  doing  pretty  well,  but  wants 
capital.  However,  no  matter  for  that  :  — he  's 
to  marry  her  you  see,  that 's  settled  —  I  agreed 
to  it.  [Takes  a  pinch  of  snuff.]  Regular 
acquaintance  :  —  tells  me  all  his  affairs  :  —  asks 
my     advice  :  —  all    well    enough.  —  Well !  — 


248  THE  TWO  MOSCHETOES. 

comes  to  me  t'  other  day,  —  wants  six  hundred 
dollars  to  take  up  a  note  ;  —  pay  it  again  in  two 
days.  Well,  you  see,  —  let  him  have  the  six 
hundred.  Ahem  !  — all  safe  enough  :  memoran- 
dum check.  — Well  !  two  days  after,  — brings 
me  the  money, — brings  me  the  six  hundred 
dollars,  you  see  :  —  counts  it  out,  lays  it  down, 
says  "much  obliged,"  and  was  going  off,  but 
says  I  to  him,  Mr  Snake,  you  've  forgot  the 
twenty  cents  for  interest  !  Hoh  !  hoh  !  hoh  ! 
hoh  !  Made  him  pay  it  !  —  made  him  pay  in- 
terest !  —  told  him  I  would  have  it  !  Hoh  ! 
hoh  !  hoh  !    [Laughs  outrageously.] 

Pinch.  Speaking  of  marrying  and  all  that, 
reminds  me  of  wThat  I  did  last  winter.  There  's 
a  chap  used  to  come  a  courting  my  kitchen 
maid  : — they  used  to  sit  up  o'  nights  keeping 
a  fire  till  twelve  and  one  o'clock.  Thinks  I, 
this  wont't  do,  burning  out  wood  at  this  rate,  - — 
costs  money,  hey  !  —  Won't  have  it.  Went 
down  into  the  kitchen,  and  gave  orders  to  have 
no  fire  evenings,  —  only  a  pot  of  charcoal  to 
warm  their  toes  :  —  let  them  have  that  to  do 
their  courting  by  :  —  egad  !  knew  it  would  soon 
spoil  their  sport  —  Well  !  went  down  into  the 
kitchen  again  about  eleven  o'clock  !  —  egad  ! 
there  they  were,  sure  enough,  knocked  down 
by  the  charcoal  as  stiff' as  pokers.     Hah  !  hah  ! 


THE   TWO  MOSCHETOES.  249 

bah  !  —  Doused  a  bucket  of  water  on  them  and 
brought  them  to.  Egad  !  the  fellow  went  off 
sick  enough  :  had  no  more  courting  o'  nights 
from  him  ; —  broke  that  up  —  short  metre. 
Hah  !  hah  !  hah  !       [Laughter.] 

Blackball.  A  good  joke,  a  very  good  joke  ! 
hah  !  hah  !  an  excellent  joke.  [Looks  at  his 
watch.]  Half  past  one  !  Well,  I  must  go  to 
dinner.  [Exit. 

Pinch.  There  he  goes  !  A  sneaking  fellow  ! 
What  d'  ye  think  ?  He  would  n't  discount  my 
paper  at  the  Triangle  Bank  !  'T  was  all  his 
doings,  confound  him,  though  he  knewT  I  was 
suffering  for  want  of  the  money  —  would  n't 
do  it  though  I  offered  the  very  best  security  ! 
Cursed  hard-hearted  set  these  bank  directors  !  — 
have  n't  the  least  feeling,  nor  the  least  compas- 
sion. Ah  !  this  is  a  confounded  unfeeling  hard- 
hearted world  !     I  'm  heartily  sick  of  it  ! 

[Exit. 

Shirk.  Ha  !  ha  !  ha  !  Served  you  right, 
old  Pinch.  I  '11  tell  you  what,  Mr  Slump,  it  's 
my  opinion  he  's  rather  down  at  the  heel. 
'T  would  not  surprise  me  to  see  him  go  by  the 
board  before  long. 

Slump.      Should  n't  wonder. 

Fogg.  Mr  Snap,  if  it  's  a  fair  question, 
an't  you  on  his  paper  to  a  heavy  amount  ? 


250  THE   TWO  MOSCHETOES. 

Snap.    [Looking  very  serious.]    Not  a  dollar. 

Fogg.  Faith  I  was  told  so  on  very  high 
authority. 

Nippum.     And  so  was  I,  Mr  Snap. 
Snap.       Ods  !    my    life  !    what    a  rascally 
world  this  is  !     How  folks  are  given  to  lying  and 
slander  ! 

Gouge.  That  's  a  fact,  for  t'  other  day  there 
was  a  story  got  into  circulation  about  me  —  a 
most  villanous  affair,  about  negotiating  some  pa- 
per—  all  a  precious  lie  from  beginning  to  end. 
I  suppose  it  was  set  on  foot  in  the  Tornado  In- 
surance Office  :  —  there  's  a  set  of  tattlers  go 
there  every  day  and  hatch  mischief  with  their 
infernal  scandal. 

Lump.  If  I  had  my  will  of  such  fellows,  I  'd 
hang  'em  up  like  onions,  fifty  in  a  rope.  These 
rascally  backbiters  are  the  pest  of  creation. 

Gouge.  I  tell  you  what;  —  if  a  man  don't 
take  precious  care  of  his  reputation  nowadays, 
it 's  all  over  with  him  before  he  can  say  "  what 's 
this  ?  "  Ha  !  Is  n't  that  old  Levi  Lackpenny 
t'  other  side  of  the  street  ?  Just  the  man  I 
want  to  see.  [Exit. 

Snap.  Yes,  and  I  '11  be  bound,  you  '11  give 
a  good  account  of  him  before  you  've  done. 
Egad  !  that  Gouge  is  the  sharpest  fellow  ! 
He  's  at  the  bottom  of  half  the  knavery  stirring 
n  these  villanous  times. 


THE   TWO   MOSCHETOES.  251 

Lump.  [Shaking  his  head.]  So  I  've  heard. 
Ah  !  this  is  a  confounded  slanderous  world  ! 
Ho  and  Joe  Crimp  got  up  a  story  t'  other  day, 
that  I  had  failed. 

Snap.     How  !  they  did  n't  though  ! 

Lump.  Fact,  Mr  Snap,  but  I  made  them  eat 
their  own  words.     Ah  !  the- precious  rascals  ! 

Skid.  Lord  !  how  this  world  is  given  to 
slander  ! 

Hyde.  What  a  set  of  tattling,  babbling, 
prying,  meddling  backbiters  there  is  about  ! 

Nippum.  It  's  strange  folks  can't  mind  their 
own  business  ! 

All.     Very  strange  !     Very  strange  ! 

[Exeunt. 

[Maneni  Ticklenose  and  Buzz  olio  ] 

Buz.  Well,  friend  Ticklenose  !  what  is  thy 
opinion  of  these  pleasant  animals  called  men  ! 

Tick.  [Holding  up  both  his  fore-claws  in 
utter  astonishment.]  Don't  ask  me,  friend 
B  uzzy  !  I  am  in  a  tremor  of  amazement  !  My 
very  nose  quakes  to  think  of  them.  Oh  Buzzy  ! 
Buzzy  !     Let  us  thank  heaven  ! 

Buz.     For  what  ? 

Tick.  Thank  heaven,  Buzzy,  that  we  are 
moschetoes  and  not  men  !  [Exeunt. 


L'  ENVOI. 

And  now  farewell ;  —  my  foolish  task  is  done ; 

Go,  little  book,  and  to  oblivion  fare. 

Chill  blasts  await  thee  in  the  desert  air 
Of  this  wise  world,  inveterate  foe  to  fun. 
Closed  thy  career,  perchance,  when  scant  begun, 

What  crowds  will  greet  thee  with  a  sapient  scowl, 

And  deem  that  wisdom  is  a  moping  owl, 
That  broods  all  taciturn,  'mid  shadows  dun. 

Ah  !  little  reck  they  of  thy  meaning  sage. 
Yet  should  one  eye,  bedimm'd  with  care  or  pain, 

Grow  bright  in  lingering  o'er  thy  sportive  page, 
'T  is  my  reward  ;  I  shall  not  toil  in  vain  : 

But  bless  the  gentle  thought  and  genial  hour, 

That  deck  life's  dusty  path  with  one  bright  flower. 


^ 


14  DAY  USE 

RETURN  TO  DESK  FROM  WHICH  BORROWED 

LOAN  DEPT. 

This  book  is  due  on  the  last  date  stamped  below,  or 

on  the  date  to  which  renewed. 

Renewed  books  are  subject  to  immediate  recall. 

2  3ct'62W4  r' 

*-'   L*0 

<!17 

8ECL  CiJL       JUN      3  78 

LD  21A-50m-3,'62 
CC7097slO)476B 

General  Library 
University  of  California 

(?lio°ftloc 


